Mother's Dreams, Father's Eyes
by Social Resistance
Summary: Years after Harper's Island, Abby Mance has a new life with her new family; Jimmy and her daughter Dawn. But a piece of the past is threatening to destroy her fresh start. Abby is left to ask herself one question: What if Henry never died? Title changed!
1. Screech

What Happens Twice Can Happen Thrice

Ch. 1 Screech

Abby looked into the eyes of her childhood friend again. No, this wasn't her friend. Her friend was gone, replaced by this monster. This murderer that killed her friends and family.

"We were kids," she bit out, the piece of glass shaking in her hand. "Don't blame me for what you've done."

She stepped forward and made Henry retreat.

"Y-You're sick," she added. "You need help."

Henry didn't look threatened, only amused. It scared her even more.

"You were gonna marry Trish," she let out in a rush, her blood pounding in her ears.

"The wedding was the only way I could think of to get you back to the island," Henry answered.

Abby backed him up into the kitchen. "Everyone's dead."

"They had to go. They were in our way," Henry explained easily.

"Wakefield killed my mom and dad," Abby's voice shook. Sudden realization swept over her. "She was your mom too."

"She threw me away," Henry's voice had hardened, full of hatred.

"You're my brother," she whispered.

"I can do the math," Henry replied.

Abby stared at him, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Abby, it doesn't matter. No one else knows." Henry said, spreading his arms out. "Hell the Dunns never told me, do you know how that felt?"

"I don't care how that felt," Abby spat.

Then Henry began to explain everything, but Abby didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to listen to this demon talk in her friend's voice. Then he said those three words.

"I love you."

"NO!" Abby yelled, throwing down the glass piece and grabbing the telescope to her left. She shattered the glass in the door and ran.

Abby woke up to a screeching sound. She bolted upright in bed and her eyes flew around the room. Where was she? Where was Henry? An arm wrapped around her waist and she screamed.

"Abby, Abby it's OK," her husband shushed. "It's Jimmy."

She turned around and faced her shirtless husband of ten years. "J-Jimmy?"

Jimmy Mance pulled his distraught wife into his arms. "Another nightmare?" he mumbled.

Abby gripped him as she nodded. Tears fell out of her dark eyes as she recalled her time in hell.

"He's dead Abby, remember? You killed him. Henry can't hurt you."

Jimmy was so absorbed on comforting his wife that he hadn't noticed a little girl peaking in the door.

"Dawn sweetie, what are you doing up?" he asked the child.

The ten-year-old pushed her dark brown hair, the same shade as her mother's, behind her ear. "I heard Mom yell. Is she OK?"

"Come here baby," Abby cooed to the little girl.

Dawn's dark brown, almost black, eyes lit up as she scurried over to her parents. She climbed into the bed between them.

"Are you alright Mom?" she asked.

Abby sniffed and tried not to burst into tears at the sight of her daughter. "Yes I am. I just had a bad dream."

She loved her daughter with all her heart, and she wouldn't trade her for anything in the world. But sometimes she wondered…

"I hate those," the little girl agreed, nodding.

"Well Dawnie, how about you and me make breakfast?" Jimmy asked, standing and stretching.

"Okay Dad!" the girl grinned, giving her mother a fleeting kiss before following the man who raised her.

Abby watched her little girl and her love go. She knew Jimmy diverted Dawn's attention away from her so she would have time to pull herself together. She went into the bathroom attached to her and Jimmy's room and turned on the hot water in the shower. She stripped and climbed in, wanting the pulsing of the tap to loosen her tense muscles and the heat to cleanse her mind of the memories. Of course, this was only a temporary fix, but it was a fix well warranted. After they had escaped Harper's Island, she and Jimmy got engaged after the media attention died down. The reason they did so was simple: Dawn. Abby had been pregnant. Jimmy was happy no matter what, he had been planning on proposing anyway, Dawn had just sped things up. There had been no ceremony, no white dress, only a judge and a nice sun dress on Abby's part. Jimmy had worn a simple button down shirt and nice pants. They hadn't said it, but it seemed that they were both afraid of having an elaborate affair, after what had happened to poor Trish.

Despite the hot water, Abby shuddered at the memory of Trish lying on the altar dead, her wedding dress stained with blood.

Abby swallowed hard and shook her head. She had to get rid of those thoughts, or else she would never be able to go to work, and today she was bringing Dawn. Her daughter had been so excited when she was told that Mommy was bringing her to the newspaper building. Abby was a journalist who worked for the LA Times. She liked writing, and it had helped her work through her grief. She kept a diary that no one ever saw, not even Jimmy. No one could ever see it. The tiny, leather book held secrets that could destroy everything. She hid it in a place no one would ever find it.

"Mama, breakfast is ready!" Dawn's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Okay sweetie, I'll be ready in a minute!" she called through the closed door.

Abby finished washing then turned the water off. She stepped out of the shower and got ready for her day.

"Hi sweetie," the mother greeted her daughter, kissing the top of her dark locks as the child ate pancakes.

"Morning Mommy!" she chirped. "Are you feeling better?"

Abby smiled and hugged her daughter, "Much better Dawnie, thank you."

"Good morning Mrs. Mance," Jimmy said, putting a plate of pancakes on the table.

"Good morning to you Mr. Mance," Abby returned, kissing Jimmy on the mouth.

The couple heard their daughter giggle at the sight. Unlike most children her age, Dawn liked the romance between her parents. Sometimes they weren't happy, but they always had each other. That's why she liked seeing it.

"Eat good today Dawn, we have a busy day ahead of us," Abby said as she put pancakes on her plate. "And what's this? Daddy didn't burn them?"

"Ha ha, funny," Jimmy said sarcastically. "Your daughter helped."

"No wonder they're so good."

The little family chatted over breakfast. You would have never known that two of them were once victims of a psychopath.

Dawn sat in the backseat of her mother's car. She waved out the window to Jimmy as they pulled away. He smiled and waved back. The child turned her attention back to the book in her hands. She loved reading. She read anything she could get her hands on, and she read above her age level, delving into high school level literature. She loved loosing herself in a story. Dawn particularly liked reading adventure books. She settled down into the seat and buried her nose in the book.

Abby glanced in the mirror and smiled at the sight of her daughter reading yet another book.

"What do you got there Dawn?"

Her daughter's dark eyes shot up from the words to her mother. "I Am Number Four."

"What's that about?" Abby asked, smiling.

She knew her daughter loved to be asked about her books, and so her question encouraged the little girl to prattle about the plot and characters. Abby listened and occasionally asked a question to prove she was listening.

"That sounds like a good book. What chapter are you on?"

"Thirteen."

Abby was surprised, "Didn't Dad buy that book for you yesterday?"

"Uh-huh."

Abby laughed, "My little reader."

"I wanna be a writer like you Mom!" Dawn said.

Abby smiled, "I'm sure you could be sweetie."

Dawn went back to her book, and Abby continued down the crowded street.

As she drove down the street, Abby glanced at the crosswalk to make sure no stray passerby was coming. Her eyes drifted to the corner ahead of her.

That's when she saw him.

Henry.

He was standing on the corner, looking straight at her car, looking straight at her. He was still while the people walked around him. Abby's eyes widened in fear.

Henry smiled.

Suddenly, the blaring of a horn brought her out of her shell shocked state and she noticed the light had turned red. Abby stepped on the brake and her car screeched to a halt.

When her car finally did stop, Abby paused and tried to control her breathing.

"Dawn! Are you alright?" she asked, worried.

"I'm fine," her daughter replied quietly. "What happened Mom?"

The ten-year-old looked pale and shaken up. Abby felt concern for her child over her own fear.

"I just got distracted. Are you sure you're OK?"

Dawn nodded and Abby finally let herself look at the corner again.

But Henry was gone.

If he had even been there at all.


	2. Rip

Ch. 2 Rip

Abby held Dawn's hand as they crossed the street. The LA heat radiated off the black road in waves. It was just like any other summer day. Dawn skipped along-side her mother, smiling and putting on a brave face. Truth be told she was nervous about going to Abby's job. The near-crash earlier hadn't steeled her nerves either. Dawn was a resilient child however, so she merely shifted her backpack onto her left shoulder and followed her mother's lead.

Abby was shaken up. She was able to hold herself together in her child's presence, but she needed to talk to Jimmy as soon as possible. She glanced around quickly, still looking for Henry. No, that was ridiculous. She had killed Henry. She had taken a boarding knife and ran it through his stomach. She watched him die. He was gone. He could never hurt her or her family again.

Jimmy glanced at his watch. He didn't want to be late for his job. He was a fisherman for a high class restaurant. He went out on a boat every day and caught fresh fish for their specials. It paid well, and he enjoyed the hard work. Jimmy locked the door behind him and went to his truck. The truck backed out of the driveway and drove to the wharf.

He watched the truck leave. When it turned the corner, he made sure no one was around. The man strode up to the home and easily broke in. The house wasn't big but it wasn't small either. It was a nice mid-sized home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a study, and a living room. As he navigated his way through the home, he paused briefly at the study. He knew this was where Abby would write. He could tell. He entered the room and gently touched her things, making sure he didn't move them. _Abby…_ How he missed her. He shook himself out of his thoughts and investigated the rest of the house. The pictures in the living room floored him. He knew there was a little girl but…he had never gotten a close look. Now he picked up the picture of the smiling kid. The little girl looked up at the camera from the floor, a book before her. Her black hair was hanging around her beautiful face. No, it wasn't black, but a very dark brown, like Abby's. Her dark eyes held the light of happiness in them. She had the dark eyes of her mother…

His grip tightened on the frame as he pulled the picture off the mantel and closer to his face. He scrutinized every aspect of the little girl now. Her facial structure, her skin tone, her rosy cheeks…he recognized them and knew them well. He put the picture back carefully and decided to look in her room.

Abby sat at her desk as she reviewed her article. Her daughter was on her lap, reading it with her.

"Mama," Dawn said.

Abby found it funny that her little girl referred to her in all forms of Mother. Sometimes she called her Mom, maybe Mama. Abby found it adorable.

"What sweetie?"

Dawn pointed a slim finger at a line. "You missed a quotation mark."

Abby leaned forward and saw she was right. "Thanks Dawnie."

Dawn smiled and continued reading the paper.

Jimmy wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at the net. His fellow crew members were bustling around working. James Mance wondered when he'd be able to eat lunch. He was very hungry.

He walked into the little girl's room and was surprised to find it looking more like a teenager's. Her walls were covered in pictures, none in frames, all just stuck to the chlorine blue wall itself. The pictures were of Abby and Jimmy, famous landmarks, book covers, and beautiful nature scenes among other things. It seemed to him that if the little girl liked it, it ended up on the wall. He turned and saw a long, handmade book shelf filled with books that would make a high school library go green with envy. He touched the top shelf. Jimmy probably made it. The thought made him clench his fist and pound the wood. No. There was no time to get angry. He had to figure some things out. Starting with the little girl's name.

Abby swallowed. She was nervous to turn her article in. She was sure there were no mistakes.

"I'll be right back Dawn, don't go anywhere," Abigail was partly afraid that Henry would come in while she was gone and find the child.

"OK," the soon to be fifth grader said, eyes never leaving her book.

Abby smiled weakly and walked toward the editors' offices. She hadn't really see Henry this morning. He was dead. She repeated those three words over and over in her mind. It was just like Jimmy said. Henry could never hurt her again.

Jimmy finally sat down for the first time since he got on the boat. He put the sandwich to his mouth and took a big bite.

"How's the family Jimmy?" his fellow fisherman Kurt asked.

"Great," he said, mouth still full of food.

"What's your daughter now…ten?"

Jimmy swallowed, "Yeah she is."

Kurt whistled, "You're gettin' old man!"

Jimmy punched his shoulder lightly and laughed. "Want to see a picture?"

Kurt, who had kids of his own, smiled and nodded.

Jimmy pulled out his wallet and showed his friend a picture of his family. He, Abby, and Dawn had been in the park and Abby had been taking pictures. Jimmy tried to get her in a picture with their daughter but Abby declined. Then a kind passerby had offered to take a picture of the entire family. The three smiled at the camera, Dawn in the middle.

"I'll never know how you got such a cute kid," Kurt teased. "She looks like her mom…good thing she doesn't look like you!"

"Oh and you're such a looker!" Jimmy countered.

The men laughed.

He looked through the drawers and found nothing but clothes, mostly jeans and T-shirts. She really was like her mother. Abby preferred simple clothes over fancy ones. He kept looking until he finally found what he was looking for. In her jewelry box, which contained little, he found a necklace with her name on it.

_Dawn_, the blue metal letters spelled.

Dawn. Like the dawning of a new day. A fresh start. A new beginning. A brand new day. How appropriate. They wanted a new life, to escape the horrors of Harper's Island. They had moved to LA to do just that. He gently ran his finger over the necklace pendant before pocketing it. So now he had her name, he needed something else. He walked along the book shelf, committing the titles to memory. He was looking for something specific, but he didn't find it. His eyes raked the wall again, searching for that one object.

He found it.

He strode over to the wall and pulled a picture off the collage. His dark eyes studied the faces, knowing two but memorizing the third, the youngest. Abby and Jimmy were smiling at the camera, Dawn between them. The picture looked recent. Seeing Jimmy's face filled him with so much rage that he tore him out of the picture, the ripping sound echoing off the quiet space. Now he only saw Abby and their daughter. He felt a smile make its way onto his face as he thought of Abby. Dawn didn't look anything like Jimmy, but that didn't surprise him. He knew the true origin of her life, where she really came from. It was obvious. He took one last look around the room and spoke to no one.

"I'm coming back."

"Damn it!" Abby muttered, staring at what was her good copy of her article.

While shuffling her papers, she accidentally ripped the good copy. She stormed back over to her computer and brought the file up again, muttering to herself. She was still shaken from the incident this morning. Fortunately, it was almost lunch time. She could call Jimmy then. She glanced up and saw Dawn reading. A smile graced the mother's face.

She loved her family, and she would do anything to protect them. In fact, Abby swore to herself that Dawn would never have to go through anything like she did.

Never.

Jimmy covered his eyes from the glare of the sun. The boat had docked and they were loading their catch onto the truck to transport the fish to the restaurant. They had just finished when his cell phone rang. He answered.

"Abby?"

"J-Jimmy, I need to talk to you."

Mr. Mance put some distance between himself and his coworker's. "Abby what's wrong? Is Dawn OK?"

"Dawn's fine, but…" his wife trailed off.

"Abby what is it?"

Abby bit her lip. She was standing outside the break room. She made sure she could see Dawn sitting in her office.

"I-I saw Henry this morning," she whispered.

"Abby—"

"No I did! He was standing on the corner and I got so distracted I almost got into an accident. What if…what if he's alive?"

"Abby, you ran a boarding knife through his stomach, you watched him die!"

"But—" she protested.

"There's no buts, that bastard is dead. You must have imagined it, like…like a leftover of your nightmare this morning."

Abby sighed, Jimmy was right. She had been right earlier. She had just imagined him. She was just worried, overreacting.

"Sorry Jimmy, I guess I was getting overexcited over nothing."

He laughed, "You writers have very overactive imaginations."

Abby laughed as well, "You're right."

"Hey, how about when we get off work, me, you, and Dawn go down to the beach? Like we used to when we were teenagers."

Abby blushed as she remembered the **other **things they did on the beach.

"Sounds great, Dawn has been asking to go for a while. You know she likes collecting things."

Jimmy chuckled, "That's our kid."

Abby felt her smile falter, but she made a noise of agreement that satisfied her husband.

"So I'll see you guys when I get home," Jimmy said.

"Yeah," Abby's voice sounded quiet. "I love you Jimmy."

"Love you too Abbs."

The phone went dead.

Abigail took a second to compose herself. She felt like she was just getting wave after wave of emotion today. After the feeling of being on a boat during a storm subsided, Abby walked back into her office.

"Ready to eat Dawn?" she asked.

The little girl nodded and got off the chair. She took her mother's hand and followed.

"By the way Dawn...after we get back home, Daddy and I were thinking of going to the beach."

Dark eyes shot up from the floor and studied Abby's face for any signs of joking . When she found none, dawn threw her arms around her mother and smiled.

Abby laughed, "I'll take that as a yes."

He stared at the picture in his hand. He was safely away from the home now. His dark eyes studied the photo, memorizing every detail of the girls' faces. He realized that Abby hadn't really changed in tens years. She still looked young and beautiful. He realized with a pang of anger, that Jimmy looked the same too. He supposed he still looked the same, minus his new scar. His hand clenched and unclenched. He could feel his anxiety consuming his body. But he had to be patient. He had to wait.

He had waited ten years, he could wait a couple days.


	3. Crash

Crash

"I'm home!" Jimmy called as he shut the door behind him.

"Daddy!" Dawn yelled, running toward the fisherman.

"Hey kid," he returned, picking her up and kissing her cheek. "How was your day?"

"Good," she smiled. "I helped Mommy proofread her article, and I finished my book!"

Jimmy was surprised, "But I just bought you that book yesterday."

"I know, but it was really good!"

Jimmy laughed as he put his daughter on the ground. "I'll have to make your bookshelf bigger then huh?"

Dawn giggled, then she began to jump up and down. "Mom said we're going to the beach?"

Jimmy faked confusion, "Did she? Hm, I don't remember that."

"Dad!" Dawn shouted. "Mom said you and her wanted to go to the beach? Aren't we?"

Jimmy laughed at the look of childish horror on her face. He knelt down and ruffled her hair. "Yes sweetie, we're going to the beach."

Dawn squealed in happiness and flung her arms around his neck. Jimmy grinned and wrapped his arms around her small frame in return.

Abby leaned in the entrance to the living room and watched Jimmy hold her daughter. She knew he loved her. Jimmy would do anything for dawn, he'd raised her. Nothing would ever change that…right?

"Hey," she said, making her presence known.

Dawn and Jimmy turned to look at her.

"Ready to go to the beach?" she asked.

"Wait!" Dawn scurried into her room and reappeared a few moments later, a cloth bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm ready now!"

Abby smiled. Jimmy took the bag off her should and carried it, holding onto the hands of the two most important females in his life. Dawn skipped happily alongside, but Abby couldn't help remembering the last thing she had done on a beach.

She had killed Henry.

As soon as her shoes touched the warm, soft sand, Dawn sprinted ahead of her parents. She loved the ocean. Jimmy had taken her before, but Abby never really came. She'd stop by for a little while, or stay an hour or two, but never the whole day. Dawn didn't know why, but it was like her mother was afraid of the beach.

_It's beautiful_, the little girl thought.

"Let's sit here!" she called, waving her hand.

"Alright Dawn just hold on," Jimmy laughed. He turned to his wife, "She's so excited."

"Yeah," Abby smiled. She'd decided not to let her dark memories sully her daughter's innocent excitement.

The parents lay the blanket down and gave their daughter permission to go into the water. Dawn took off her shoes and ran into the surf, the crashing of the waves as beautiful to her as any love ballad. She ran and ran until she reached a sand bar, rising suddenly and staring at all sorts of broken shells and sea glass. She smiled and thrust her hand into the water. It was just what she was looking for.

He glared at their backs. They couldn't see him, no, they were too absorbed in each other to notice anything. Jimmy and Abby, sitting on a blanket, watching the water…it was just like before. Did she even spare a thought to him? To the last time she'd seen him? He doubted it. Jimmy consumed her thoughts now, Jimmy and their kid. He clenched his fists. He wanted to rip him away from her, wanted to take her and hide her away. He planned on doing so, but first, he had to secure some details. He began to walk toward the water, where a little girl who looked like Abby was pulling shells from the sand.

Abby and Jimmy didn't notice the man going into the water and heading toward Dawn. Abby had her eyes closed and Jimmy was looking at her peaceful expression. They couldn't have imagined what those brief ten minutes of neglected parental duties would cost them so much.

Dawn pulled out another piece of sea glass. Really, sea glass was a pretty way of saying glass (mostly likely from liquor bottles) that had been in the churning waters so much that it became smooth. She held the blue piece up to the light, and finding nothing wrong with it, put it in her bag along with the rest. She bent down to look for more.

"Hello," a voice, a man's, greeted from behind her.

Dawn was so surprised that she dropped the shell she was holding a spun around, losing her footing and falling toward the water. Before she could hit the water, the man grabbed her arm and she stopped, inches from getting entirely soaked.

"Careful," his tone was warm and friendly, and it sounded somehow familiar, like a voice she'd heard in a dream.

He helped her stand and she found herself staring up at a man with dark eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, wary.

He held his hand out for her to shake, "I'm John. I'm a lifeguard here."

Oh, well that explained it. He was wearing swim trunks after all, and a T-shirt. "I'm Dawn."

They shook hands, "Nice to meet you Dawn. Why are you out here alone? Where's your parents?"

Dawn pointed to Abby and her husband sitting on the blanket on shore, "There, and I'm looking for shells and stuff."

"Would you like some help?"

The little girl shrugged, although she was secretly happy to have an extra hand, "If you wanna."

John laughed and looked into the water.

It was perfect. He had to hand it to himself. Dawn didn't suspect anything when he'd lied about being a lifeguard. He had known from her room that she liked collecting shells, so he brought along a little memento of his own to give to her. He didn't know if Abby would recognize it. He'd only kept it because he hadn't entirely hated the person it belonged to, he wasn't a monster. He had feelings. He pulled it from his pocket and casually dropped it into the water, then plunged his hand in after it. The child at his side hadn't notice a thing, too enthralled her latest find: an almost whole sand dollar.

"Dawn, what about this?" he asked as he lifted the fake find out to her.

She turned her dark eyes onto him and for a moment he thought it was Abby, looking ten again. She was ten when she whispered those words, those words that gave him hope.

"That's pretty," her child's voice, not her own, interrupted his thoughts.

She gently took it from his hands, studying the pattern on the porcelain. While she did this, he took a moment to reflect on the connection he felt to this child, deep and strong. He was cautious however, and didn't reveal how he really felt.

Dawn brought her finger up and traced the flowery pattern. "I love it." She beamed up at him, "Thank you so much."

He smiled, a real one, not the false mask he wore, "No problem."

They continued to search and talk a little.

Abby opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Jimmy.

"Hey," she whispered. "I must've fallen asleep."

"Yep," he kissed her forehead. "You looked beautiful."

Abby let herself feel the warmth of the moment…before her mothering instincts kicked in.

"Where's Dawn?" she sat up, eyes darting around the shore.

"She's still in the—" Jimmy dropped off suddenly as he saw a man with his little girl. He immediately stood and went to the waters' edge. "Dawn! Get back here!"

He saw the little girl turn. The man turned as well but with the setting sun in his eyes, Jimmy couldn't see his face. Dawn said something to the man, then started toward her family. When she emerged on shore, smiling and unharmed, Jimmy let out a rush of air, relieved.

"Who were you talking to Dawn?" he asked, picking her up so her feet wouldn't get sandy.

"He said his name was John. He's a lifeguard here and he was worried when he saw me out there alone. He was really nice. He helped me find these!" She opened her bag and Jimmy peaked inside, finding all sorts of shells and sea glass.

Jimmy scolded himself for being so paranoid. The guy was probably a college kid who was just doing his job. So what if he had talked to Dawn? She was fine, and no worse for wear, and if she was to be believed, he had in fact helped her. Jimmy walked until they were at the blanket and placed her down. Abby produced a towel and helped her daughter dry her feet, then put her shoes on. Yes, maybe Jimmy had been paranoid…but he had good reason. After all, he and his wife had been hunted down, had watched their friends get slaughtered, were betrayed by a friend, and had to live with being among the sole survivors of such a heinous crime. He may be protective over Dawn, but that was only because he swore he'd never let anyone he loved be hurt again. He'd die first.

He watched their happy family of three leave, making him alone. The only sound he heard were the cries of the gulls, so similar to human shrieks (and he would know), and the endless crashing of the waves…

**A/N First Author's Note ever. I wanna say thanks to all who commented and please continue to do so. I appreciate all the feedback. One comment I would like to address however, was the one where someone said I switched P.O.V. The point of view has and will always be Third Person Omniscient, and I wasn't sure what they meant. I'm sorry if things seem squished together but it's all happening in different places at the same moment, and my marker things disappeared. Well, that's all I gotta say. Thank you and keep reading please! **


	4. Clatter

Clatter

Dawn sat on the floor of her room. A picture frame was in front of her, and she was busy attaching the final pieces of her 'treasures'. Broken shells decorated the frame; she only had one final piece to add. She pulled the piece John had found at the beach. She smiled as she felt the smooth white porcelain. The flower design was her favorite part, and how the small piece seemed to catch the light. She took the hot-glue gun and carefully squeezed the trigger, outlining the back of the shard with the clear adhesive. She stuck it on the frame and inspected her final product. Her parents would love it for their anniversary.

XxX

He sat in his makeshift base. His eyes were, as usual, studying the photo in his hand. Meeting Dawn the other day…he'd felt a connection, a type of connection he'd only felt once before. He knew he was right, there was no way he was wrong. When she was older, she'd probably understand better. After all, she was only a child. She didn't understand the gravity of her situation. She didn't know her existence was a lie, a fraud, probably created by Jimmy. Abby would never lie, unless it was to protect someone else. Maybe that was it. She probably just wanted to protect Dawn. It wasn't that she hated him, or didn't want him. She just wanted dawn to have a father. Jimmy had provided that. No, he was certain he was right. There was no way he could be wrong. Abby may try to fool herself, but she couldn't fool him. Did Jimmy even know? He thought it'd be amusing if he was the one to expose the lie. The look on his face would be reward enough. But then again, so would his mangled, bloody corpse at his feet. He smiled at the thought.

XxX

Abby and Jimmy were busy making dinner. It was their anniversary, but they hadn't really planned on anything special. They knew Dawn was giving them a gift, but they hadn't figured out what. They were busy tossing ideas around.

"A photo album?" Jimmy suggested.

Abby shook her head, "That was last year."

"Damn. Books?"

Abby sighed as she stirred the sauce, "She gave us books for our birthdays, ones we thoroughly enjoyed."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, "That girl is hard to figure out."

Abby laughed. "Is the fish ready over there Cap'n?"

Jimmy nodded, smiling.

"Dawn!" her mother called. "Dinner!"

The adults heard little feet scampering across the floor above them and down the stairs. There was a sound of someone falling, followed by a chirp of "I'm OK!" causing her parents to laugh. Dawn could be the clumsiest person in the world, or the most graceful. It was adorable. The little girl appeared in the entranceway to the kitchen, holding something behind her back. She smiled up at her parents.

"Sit down!" she said.

Stifling their laughter, Jimmy and Abby did as she said.

"Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!" she cheered as she handed the large wrapped package to Abby. Jimmy sat beside her, studying the wrapping.

"You wrapped this by yourself?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Dawn nodded vigorously. "Open it!"

Abby did the honors. She pulled at the tape and ripped the decorative paper.

XxX

He wondered if they would recognize his little piece from the past. Abby most certainly would, but Jimmy wouldn't. If Abby panicked he'd have to talk her down, there'd be an argument, in front of Dawn too. He felt himself smile. He needed to expose Jimmy's true colors before he could come back. Maybe Dawn would cry, watching her parents argue so heatedly. After all, Harper's Island was a touchy subject for the survivors. Hell, he didn't really like to think about it. He regretted having to kill some people. He really did. He couldn't let himself dwell in the past however, if he was planning on building the future he'd always wanted.

XxX

Abby and Jimmy were impressed by their daughter's work. The frame looked beautiful.

"Dawn, where did you get all this?" Jimmy asked, running a calloused finger over the smooth sea glass.

"The beach!" she beamed. "That's why I collected all those things, for your present!"

"It's beautiful sweet—" but Abby's compliment was cut off when she saw one shard.

The shard of porcelain was white, decorated with beautiful, hand painted flowers. She'd seen it before.

With a _clatter _the frame hit the tiled floor.

"Mama?" Dawn asked. "Mama what's wrong?"

Abby couldn't control the horror on her face. She'd seen that design before. She knew it well. It was burned into her memory from the wedding, from finding identical shards littered all over the table, the remnants of Trish's mother's Tea set.

Jimmy picked up the frame and looked at his wife. "Abby?"

Jimmy didn't know. Of course he wouldn't know, he hadn't seen it, hadn't spent hours putting on piece back together. He knelt in front of Abby and put his hands on her shoulders. Dawn stood to the side, feeling awful, like she did something wrong.

"Abby? Abby what is it?" he knew that look. It was the same look she had after a nightmare, whenever she thought of Harper's. "Abby talk to me."

Abby was shaking. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Dawn, go upstairs," Jimmy ordered, sounding harsh to his own ears.

The little girl nodded and ran away. He heard her footsteps and then the slam of her bedroom door. He knew he might have scared his daughter, but he would apologize later. Right now, he was worried about Abby.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Abby you have to tell me."

"The tea set," she whispered.

"What?"

She took the frame off the table and pointed to the shard that had shattered the good feeling in the room. "It's from Trish's tea set…from the wedding."

Jimmy froze, "Abby, no, it just looks like it, you made a mistake."

"I know it is Jimmy!" she shouted. "I spent hours putting that damn tea pot back together as a wedding present! I know that design!"

"Maybe it just looks like it," he tried to reason.

"No," Abby was hysterical. "Trish said it was one-of-a-kind. Handmade and hand painted."

"Maybe it washed up…you see all the things Dawn finds."

"From Seattle? It doesn't make sense!"

"What else do you want me to say Abby? That you're right! That Henry's alive and he handed that piece to our kid? Is that what you want me to say?" he knew he shouldn't be shouting, but Harper's always made them argue, especially when they got on the topic of Henry's possible survival.

Abby had been standing, but now she collapsed into the chair, her hands covering her face. "Oh God Jimmy…"

Jimmy felt regret stab his heart, "Abby I didn't mean—"

"then how else do you explain it?" she shouted.

"I don't know!"

XxX

Dawn sat on her bed. Her knees were drawn into her chest and her hands covered her ears. She was trying to drown out the sound of her parents arguing. Tears fell down her face because she knew she did something to start it. She didn't know what, but she knew it was her fault. That's why her Dad had been so mean when he told her to go upstairs. Dawn let a tiny sob escaped her throat as she heard her mother's panicked voice. _It's all my fault_, she thought. _All my fault._ Maybe they really hated her present, maybe that's what they were arguing about. After all, Abby had dropped it on the ground, she must not have cared about it. Dawn felt stupid. She thought she was the cause of her parents' sudden attitude change from happy to angry…on their anniversary too. She must have been the worst child in the world…at least in her eyes she was. She had listened to her parents argue before, but every time it was about a certain thing, they would get out of hand. Dawn didn't know what that thing was, but she wanted to find out.

XxX

Abby was crying. Jimmy was breathing heavily. Both were silent. It was in that silence that they heard their child's cries.

"Dawn!" Abby muttered. "God…Jimmy…"

He looked at his wife. His hanger was gone, replaced by remorse. "She…she was listening Abs."

Abby quickly dried her eyes with her sleeve and ran up the stairs, "Dawn!"

Jimmy grabbed the frame and followed, cursing himself.

When the parents opened the door, their hearts broke at the sight. Their little girl was curled into a ball on her bed, clenching her eyes shut and covering her ears. Tears leaked out of her closed lids.

"Dawnie," jimmy muttered, going over to the bed and putting a hand on her head. "Dawnie open your eyes."

The little girl did and as soon as she saw her parents she shouted, "I'm sorry!"

"For what sweetie?" Abby asked, sitting in the other side of her.

Dawn sniffed, "I-I made you guys fight. I d-didn't mean to!"

Jimmy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. Abby scooted over and rubbed the ten-year-old's back, trying to calm her down. Dawn continued to cry and sniff.

"honey, you didn't make us fight," Jimmy soothed.

"B-But Mom dropped the frame. So I thought I did it. If you guys hate it, you don't have to keep it!"

Abby picked up the gift, "Dawn, we love it! It just…" she trailed off, looking to her husband for help.

"It brought of some very bad memories about a very bad and scary time in your Mom and I's lives," he finished.

Dawn pulled her face out of her father's shoulder, "What happened?"

The parents stared at each other. They knew they would have to tell her eventually, but not now. It was too horrible to tell a little girl.

"A very bad man did some very bad things to our friends and family," Abby finally settled on a 'G' version of the truth.

"We'll explain it all when you're older," Jimmy added.

"OK," the little girl replied.

"We're sorry for scaring you Dawn," Abby said, putting her arms around dawn.

The small family embraced, and there, Dawn felt like nothing could ever hurt her.

How naïve are the minds of the innocent.

XxX

Later that night, while lying in bed, Jimmy had a passing thought. Dawn had said that the man with her was named John…could that mean? He shook his head. Of course not. He was reading too much into things. However, he did make a note to ask his daughter just who had found that shard of porcelain. Because if by some twisted miracle henry was alive…he'd do anything he can to kill him again. He'd kill him as many times as he had to. Jimmy would never let that monster hurt his family again.

Never.


	5. Click

Click

**A/N This chapter is dedicated to NykkiLeighVampireHeart, who comments on every chapter. I'd appreciate more reviews so I can tell if people like the story or not. Thank you :)**

Abby was driving home. She knew that Jimmy had taken Dawn out to dinner since she would be late. She hoped she wouldn't come home to an empty house, she hated being alone. Abigail used to love it, but Harper's had driven a fear in her. A fear that someone or something was always waiting in the dark, waiting for the exact moment to strike. Abby shuddered. She shouldn't think things like that, she would have a meltdown. She decided that when she got home she'd write in her journal. Getting everything out put things into perspective and calmed her down.

XxX

Jimmy smiled at his daughter across the table. Her faced was scrunched in thought as she pondered her next move. They were playing the dot game where your goal was to make boxes. Jimmy was winning, but just barely. Dawn grinned as she scored four more boxes. She passed the paper to Jimmy and waited.

"Dawnie, I want to ask you a question about the frame," he said, putting a line haphazardly and passing the paper back to the little girl.

She smiled as she filled in five more boxes, winning the game. "If you and Mom don't like it, you don't have to keep it."

"No!" he said a little too loudly. Jimmy dropped his voice lower. "No, we love it. It's just…do you remember the white piece with the flowers on it?"

Dawn nodded, swinging her legs back and forth under the table. She was trying to focus on her Dad but all she could think about was the yummy food coming to their table. Fried fish and French fries…yum.

"Where did you get it?" he asked.

The server came and placed their food on the table, telling them with a smile to enjoy the meal.

Dawn took a bite of her fish before answering, "John gave it to me."

Jimmy froze, "John the lifeguard?"

Dawn nodded, still munching happily.

"What did he look like Dawn?" Jimmy felt tense now.

Her expression became one of deep thought, then she seemed to realize something. She took a lock of her hair and looked at it. "Same hair color as me."

Jimmy clenched his fists under the table. Her hair color was the same as Abby's.

Then Dawn thought a little more, then said, "He had dark eyes…but I'm not sure what color. You should ask Mommy."

Jimmy's eyes widened as he watched his child eat like nothing was wrong.

"Why would Mom know?" he tried to keep his voice level.

Dawn took a sip of her drink, not understanding the gravity of her situation. "We saw him."

Jimmy was so tense he wanted to scream at her, "When?"

"When we went to her work. He was on the corner and Mom almost got in an accident."

Jimmy's light brown eyes studied the child. She was telling the truth, he could tell. But that meant…

Jimmy stood up, "We're leaving."

XxX

He sat in the living room, waiting. Waiting for someone to come home, anyone. If it was Abby, he'd only have to talk, but if it was Jimmy…well, that's what the folding knife in his hand was for. It was the one he'd used to kill his father. He supposed that whoever had Dawn, he'd have to deal with her in some way. The parents would probably order her to hide, or go up to her room. They had nothing to fear though, he wouldn't hurt the kid. No, he wouldn't and couldn't kill her. He stared at the picture he'd taken from Dawn's room. He wanted the perfect life, the life he'd always wanted. He wanted to return to the place where he was happy, the only point in his life when he was happy. And he would, but when he did, he'd have his dream come true. He heard a key click in the lock. He pulled the blade out and waited. The lock turned.

XxX

Jimmy cursed at the traffic. Of course there would be bumper to bumper traffic when he had to get home now. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel.

"Damn it!" he yelled.

Dawn jumped at James Mance's outburst. She thought she did something wrong again to make her angry. It seemed she was always doing things wrong, always making her parents angry. Dawn felt terrible. Jimmy didn't notice. His mind was flashing back to Harper's, thinking about all the murders and all the terror he and Abby felt. He just wanted to be with her now, to hold her, to make sure no one could get her. He wanted to protect his family. Jimmy wished he had a shotgun like he did on the island.

XxX

Abby put the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door.

"Jimmy?" she called into the dark home.

She received no reply.

Abby stifled a sigh and locked the door behind her. She flicked on the hall light and put her bag on the table. She decided to go upstairs and change before she did anything else. She hated dressing up, and wanted to be in casual clothes as soon as possible.

XxX

He listened to her call out for her husband. He folded the knife and put it in his back pocket, along with his picture. He pulled out another souvenir he had gotten from the home and waited for her to find him. He heard the click, click of her heels as she crossed the hardwood floor and went upstairs. Abby hated being in formal clothes, she preferred to be comfy. But that was alright. He could wait a few more minutes.

XxX

Jimmy swore again, louder this time. Dawn had drawn her knees into her chest and ducked her head so she could avoid the anger in her Dad's eyes. He was tense and looked like he was going to kill someone. Jimmy didn't know what to do. He couldn't run to the house and traffic was slow going if it was going at all. He cursed the City of Angels as he waited for the sports car in front of him to move. Don't these people know that there were some matters more important than their conference call? Like life and death?

XxX

Abby felt more comfortable in her tank top and jeans. She pulled her sneakers on because she hated feeling the cold floor on her bare feet. The mother turned the light off and walked down her stairs, heading toward the living room so she could get her journal and write. As she passed, she flicked the hallway light on. She didn't want to trip. When she arrived in the living room she turned on the light. The light switch, which Jimmy always said he'd fix, clicked as it went up. Abby looked at the room and almost screamed when she saw who was sitting in her easy chair.

"Hey Abby," her half-brother greeted.

"H-Henry?" she stuttered.

XxX

Henry smiled at his love. He felt nervous, finally seeing her after ten years.

"You're dead," she whispered.

He regarded her fear calmly. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He was so happy. "I said you couldn't do it. You're not a killer."

"I ran you through with a boarding knife!" her voice was panicked.

He lifted up his shirt to show her the large scar. "You missed."

"You can't be here. You need to leave."

He laughed. It was an easy, genuine laugh. "I'm not leaving until we talk."

Abby leaned against the doorframe for support. "So talk."

Henry smiled.

XxX

Abby couldn't believe what was happening. The man she'd thought she'd killed, her brother, her best friend, was sitting in her living room. The man who killed her friends and family was right in front of her. Abby was terrified. She'd told him to talk, and he'd smiled. His smile was no different now that she knows who he is. Henry still looked the same, still smiled the same, and still laughed the same. He was still Henry…and that's what scared her the most. There had been no dynamic change when he'd revealed himself as the killer. He always had a temper, but now his temper meant so much more. It was part of the dark side he'd been hiding. She was waiting for him to snap, to kill her like his Dad killed their Mom.

"What do you want Henry?" she asked.

He stood up, "Same thing I wanted ten years ago…life with you."

It was sick and twisted, but Abby couldn't hate Henry. She could never love him like he loved her, but she couldn't hate him. She hated what he'd done, but she couldn't hate him. A single tear fell down her cheek.

"Do you know what I've been doing while I was waiting for you or Jimmy to come home?"

Abby shook her head.

"I was reading this," he held up her journal.

Abby nearly screamed. No! He couldn't have read it! He couldn't know!

"I was also looking at all the pictures you have of your family," he continued, walking over to the fireplace. "Particularly this one." He picked up the one of Dawn.

Abby clenched her fists at her sides. She wished for that shotgun she had on Harper's Island.

"I think…" he paused to look at his half-sister. "That she looks like me, and from reading this," he held up the journal before he tossed it on the coffee table. "You do too."

Abby shook her head, trying to prevent her tears, "No! She's Jimmy's! How could she be yours? We never—"

"Think about it Abby," Henry said in a soothing tone, taking a step forward. You woke up for a little while, remember? Do you remember what we did?"

Abby stared at the floor, denial racing through her veins.

"There's no use lying," Henry laughed. "You wrote about it. You do remember. It was before you'd woken up and got changed."

"Shut up," she muttered.

"Seeing you lying in that bed…I couldn't control myself, I had to have you."

He sounded so calm about it. He didn't sound sorry at all. Abby felt like she was going to be sick.

"That was the only time I let myself…give in, to the temptation," he finished.

Abby put her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Henry crossed the floor until he was right on top of Abby.

"And now," he said, barely containing his joy. "We're going to be a family." He cradled her face in his hands. Abby couldn't look at him, she could barely breathe. _This couldn't be happening._

Henry leaned his face close to hers, "I love you Abby."

Henry kissed her.

XxX

Dawn was panicking. She didn't know what was going on but she knew she was afraid. She was afraid of her father's anger, afraid for her mother, and afraid of what she would find at home. Jimmy looked at her through the mirror and cursed to himself.

"Dawnie? Talk to me sweetie," he said, trying to go for a soothing tone.

Dawn thought her father's voice sounded stressed. "About what?" she asked quietly.

"Anything. Just keep talking."

"Dad what's happening? What did I do?" she asked, blinking back tears.

"You didn't do anything Dawn and if anything happens…it's not your fault."

"What do you mean? Daddy what are you talking about?"

Jimmy shook his head. He couldn't tell her what Henry had done. He couldn't. She'd be terrified. He had to calm her down or…

He heard Dawn's breathing start to become labored.

"Dawn! Talk to me, about anything. Your books…just anything! But you need to calm down."

Dawn tried to breathe slowly and deeply. She began slowly talking to Jimmy about the new book she'd started. As she went along, she saw Jimmy's shoulders relax a little and her breathing became normal. The words may have made her breathing return to normal and her father's body release the tension, but she still had that sick feeling in her stomach.

XxX

As Henry pulled away, he smiled and reached out a hand to brush Abby's hair away from her face. Abby felt her tears fall, but not for herself, for Dawn and Jimmy. She hoped they wouldn't come home, against all logic that they would.

"When Jimmy comes back, I'll deal with him and we'll finally be free to be together," Henry said.

"You said you were done killing," she whispered.

Henry sighed and pressed his forehead against his sister's. "After Jimmy I'm done. I always meant after Jimmy."

_You can't_, Abby thought fervently. She tried to think of the last time she'd been with Henry alone. She had to escape, but first, she had to get him away from her.

"I love him," she spat, the anger of hell in her eyes.

Instead of hitting her as he did before, Henry only laughed. "That's fine. Once he's gone you'll learn to love me." Henry seemed to have a firmer grasp on his anger this time around.

Not knowing what else to do, Abby stomped on his foot. Henry took a step back and she shoved him with all her might. Abigail gained a few feet of space and she ran into the kitchen, aiming for a knife. She heard Henry's steps behind her. She knew it was just like before, so when he grabbed her hair and pulled her back, she wasn't surprised. She struggled harder than she did that day, but Henry held her tighter and dug his fingers further into her hair. He pulled her head back, exposing her pale throat.

"Abby, I'm not going to hurt you. Stop struggling," he told her.

"You'll kill Jimmy!" she whispered, fear making her tone raspy.

"You know I've made a lot of sacrifices for us, and he's the last one."

"Dawn…"

"I'd never hurt our child," her half-brother said with conviction. "I love you both."

"You don't even know her." Abby didn't know why she was being so brave, mouthing off to this monster, deliberately trying to make him angry. "She'll never see you as her father. Jimmy is her Dad, not a murderer like you!"

Henry sighed, clearly irritated. He dragged her back into the living room, keeping a firm hold on her waist. He pushed her onto the couch and stood over her.

"Once he's gone, you and Dawn will have me, nothing will be in our way. We'll be a family," Henry was smiling, picturing it in his mind.

Abby could not let what happened to her happen to her daughter. She didn't want Dawn to see Jimmy get killed. She didn't want to lose the only other person she had left in her life. Henry couldn't take him away. He and Wakefield had stolen everyone else, they couldn't have Jimmy. Abby wouldn't let it happen. She sat up and threw herself at Henry.

"We don't want you!" she screamed, saying those same words she said before, on the cliff above the beach. Her fists pounded against his chest uselessly. Henry wrapped his arms around her and restrained her movement.

"Abby, it's gonna be OK," he whispered, resting his cheek on her head. "Everything's going to be fine."

Abby couldn't believe him, she never would. He was here to take everything away from her, to take her and Dawn back to that Hell. Abby would die before he let Henry lay one finger on her…their…daughter. She stopped struggling and let him hold her. She saw his knife peeking out from his back pocket. Her arm began to slide down…

XxX

Jimmy was so close to their house he could see the lights. He tore down the street, pushing his truck to go as fast as it could. He pulled into the driveway and hopped out quickly, slamming the door behind him. He went to the back and opened the door. Dawn sat in her seat, looking frightened. Her fists were shaking in her lap. Jimmy opened the toolbox on the floor. He rifled through it and spoke to his daughter in a calm voice.

"Dawnie, I need you to do something for me."

She nodded, blinking back tears. Jimmy was no longer angry, but he seemed…still, too still, in his daughter's opinion. He seemed too clam, too collected for the crisis they were supposedly facing. The truth is, Jimmy had come to grips with what he would have to do to protect his family. That knowledge gave him a grim resolution.

He found the item he was looking for and held it out to his daughter. "I need you to stay in here and lay on the floor. If someone comes over that's not me or your Mom, hit them with this."

Dawn stared at the crowbar in his hand. Surely his was joking. She looked up into James' eyes and realized he was not.

"Don't come out, no matter what."

She took the rough metal into her hands and looked up at her father. He helped her sit on the floor, then he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I love you Dawn, always remember that."

Dawn felt her body go ridged. It sounded like he was saying goodbye.

"I love you too Dad," she whispered, unable to say anything else.

Jimmy smiled one last time before he shut the door, but he couldn't hide the weapon he'd taken from the toolbox from her. In his right hand, he carried the knife he used to gut fish. Jimmy locked the truck then dumped the keys in the bush by the door.

A tear fell down Dawn's cheek. It would not be the last.

XxX

Jimmy unlocked the lock with a click. He took a deep breath and opened the door.


	6. Thud

Thud

Jimmy slowly opened the door. He wanted to glance back at the truck, but knew that if he did he may lose his resolve. So instead, he quietly shut the door. The lights were on, giving him full view of his home.

"Abby?" he called. His eyes strained to pick up any sound. "I'm home."

He said 'I'm' instead of 'we're', hoping that if Abby was here, whether alone or with the monster that slaughtered their friends, she would understand Dawn was safe.

Jimmy continued to carefully step across the floor. The knife clutched in his hand.

XxX

Abby heard the front door open. Jimmy called for her, but he only said he was home. Where was Dawn? Did he figure out something was wrong and hide her away? Abby prayed that he did. He hand moved quicker, plunging into Henry's back pocket and pulling the knife out quickly. She shoved against his chest, trying to back away with her new weapon. She managed the space but Henry still had her arm, the arm that held his knife. She pulled and struggled, but his grip was as painfully tight as it had been ten years ago. Abby lashed out with her free hand, knowing that this fight could save her and her family. She struggled harder, but Henry just took the knife from her and shoved her back onto the couch. He faced the doorway and opened the knife.

"Jimmy run!" she screamed.

He did, but not away, not out the door. He ran toward her, to help her, to protect her. Her husband stood in the doorway, grasping a knife in his hand. Her brother faced him, a smaller, yet equally dangerous knife in his hand.

Abby stood, but she didn't know what to do. She could only watch as her lover and her brother faced off.

XxX

This is what he had been waiting for.

Henry had dreamed about the day where he could plunge his knife into Jimmy and watch the life drain from his eyes. Henry felt himself smiling.

"Hey Jimmy," he greeted.

Jimmy just glared at him.

"You know, I hope you'll put up a better fight than Sully did. I mean, I didn't want to kill him, but he didn't have to make it so easy."

Jimmy looked like he wanted the spit fire.

"My Dad said Shane fought hard. He just refused to die," Henry laughed.

"You son of a bitch," Jimmy growled, holding the knife toward him. "I'll kill you."

"Well, you can try," Henry said simply.

With a yell, Jimmy lunged at his wife's half-brother. Henry met him head on.

XxX

Dawn sat on the floor of Jimmy's truck. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew it was bad. She tried to keep her breathing under control, because if she didn't, well…it would be bad. She clutched the rough metal in her small hands and waited, listening to the crashes and thuds from inside her home. She couldn't imagine the fight going on inside, or what was at stake. All the little girl knew was that she was scared, and she wanted her parents. Dawn covered her ears and closed her eyes, humming loudly to drown out the sounds of her father fighting for his life.

XxX

Henry and Jimmy were on the ground. The knives were on the floor. They had disarmed each other. Henry had Jimmy in a headlock, cutting off his air.

"Stop it!" Abby screamed.

Jimmy elbowed Henry in the face, giving him room to breathe. The fisherman wouldn't let himself be taken down so easily. This man had killed his friends, had made a mockery of their death. This monster had tried to kill him. He'd killed Abby's Dad and hurt Abby. The bastard was going to pay.

Abby felt tears slide down her cheeks. She ran toward the fray and grabbed Henry's shoulders, trying to pry him off of Jimmy. Henry swung his arm back and didn't so much as hit her as push her away, causing her to land on the floor with a loud thud. Her vision blurred as her head struck the floor.

"Abby!" Jimmy yelled.

The mother struggled to sit up. She had to help Jimmy. She had to save him. They were punching each other now, rolling around on the floor like J.D. and Henry had on the lawn of the Candlewick. Despite her dizziness, Abby stood and ran into the kitchen, reemerging with a large carving knife. Jimmy kneed Henry in the gut and scrambled away, picking up his knife.

Henry had blood trickling from his mouth, but still he smiled. "Does he know?"

Jimmy glanced from his wife to his enemy, "Do I know what?"

Her half-brother laughed, "You never told him? Abby, that wasn't very smart."

Abby just clutched the kitchen knife tighter. Her lips were tightly pressed together and she stared at Wakefield's child.

"What don't I know? What didn't you tell me?" Jimmy shouted, frustrated with the game Henry was playing.

Henry grinned, happy that he was going to be the one to tell the truth and happy about said truth. "Dawn is my daughter."

XxX

Dawn didn't like the silence. It was almost as painful as the fighting. The silence seemed worse because she couldn't tell what was going on. She didn't know if her parents were hurt, or maybe worse, maybe they were…

She shook her head, her dark hair whipping about her face. She couldn't think like that. Her parents would be fine. Jimmy would take care of the bad guy and the family would be fine again. It would be like her books. Jimmy was the hero, he would save them all. The little girl tried in vain to prevent another thought from shattering her fantasy.

She'd read the books, and sometimes…there weren't happy endings.

Heroes died.

XxX

Henry laughed at the look on Jimmy's face. It was a mixed expression of disbelief, shock, horror, and anger. Henry looked at his rival in love, and resisted the urge to laugh again. Jimmy's hands were shaking, from fear or anger, the Wakefield couldn't tell. Abby merely glared at him, but her anger was somewhat distorted by the tears freely flowing down her pale cheeks. It hurt Henry to see her cry. He didn't want to hurt her, but she had to realize…this was the only way they could be together.

"What does he mean?" Jimmy whispered harshly, addressing his wife.

The knife was shaking in Abby's hand and Henry had the urge to comfort his half-sister, but he couldn't, not yet, not until James Mance was out of the way.

"Abby, what is he talking about?" Jimmy shouted.

"I never wanted you to know," Abby whispered.

"It's just like I said," Henry began again. "Dawn is my daughter. Not yours. Abby and I—"

"He forced me!" Abby shouted, pleading for her husband to understand. "I was barely conscious!"

XxX

Jimmy's light brown eyes darted from Abby to Henry. He saw tears pouring from Abby's eyes, while Henry couldn't get that stupid smile off his face. Jimmy needed to think, but he didn't have that luxury. He never thought anything was off with his daughter. Sure she didn't look like him, but she looked like Abby.

_That's because she's Henry and Abby's daughter. They do look alike, _a voice hissed in his mind.

Jimmy couldn't believe it, his little girl, the product of incest and rape? It didn't seem possible. It didn't make sense. She was a perfect little girl, well, aside from…

But the incest would explain it.

Jimmy wished he could just pause everything and think. He needed time, he needed to be alone.

Abby's sobs brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at his wife's shaking form and felt regret stab his heart. None of that mattered. Henry hadn't been in the hospital room when Dawn was born, Henry hadn't fed her and raised her, Henry hadn't been up until three in the morning trying to make her fall asleep, and Henry wasn't the one Dawn called Dad. He was. Jimmy was her Dad. Maybe this murderer did make up half her genes, maybe her was her father, but he wasn't her Dad. Jimmy found strength in this and found himself staring straight into the almost black eyes of the killer.

"You're wrong," he said.

Henry shook his head, still smiling. "No I'm not."

"You are," Jimmy continued defiantly. "Maybe you did make her, but you didn't raise her. Dawn's not your daughter, she's mine."

Henry's taunting smile vanished.

"You think I care how she was born? I love her, no matter what. I've raised her, with my wife."

Henry looked positively livid now. Abby turned toward Jimmy and he smiled and her, putting his hand on her shoulder, stepping closer to her side.

"This is my family Henry, not yours. You've killed everyone else we cared about, you won't hurt my family."

There was silence for seconds, then Henry laughed, but it wasn't a laugh full of good humor, it was dark and mocking.

XxX

Henry laughed. He laughed at Jimmy's naiveté, and at Abby's hopeful expression. Didn't they understand Jimmy had no chance of surviving? Henry had murdered his friends, his fiancée; he was more than capable of killing a man he hated. Jimmy however, had never killed in his life. He was too weak to do it, too good a person. Henry didn't consider himself evil, just ambitious and determined to do whatever it took to achieve his goals. He felt his face distort into anger, hatred.

"No Jimmy, I would never hurt Dawn or Abby," he pointed the knife directly at Jimmy's heart. "But I'll finish what I started on the island. I'll kill you."

Jimmy tensed and pushed Abby behind him. "You could try."

Henry's smile was back.

XxX

Jimmy knew that he was more than likely going to die. The odds were stacked against him. Henry had killed before. I reality, the fisherman didn't stand a chance. Sure he'd been in a lot of fights, but he didn't possess the instinct to murder.

Henry did.

The dark haired man decided to taunt him further, "Did Dawn ever tell you she had impulses?"

Jimmy's blood ran cold.

"I did, at her age. I didn't understand them until I met my Dad. Now I'll tell her what they mean and help her," Henry's smile made Jimmy's blood boil.

"Dawn's not a murderer! She'll never be like you!" Jimmy shouted.

Henry shrugged, "She has Wakefield blood, same as me. Don't worry; I'll take care of her once you're gone. I'll make sure she'll never get caught, just like my Dad did for me."

The thought of Dawn killing people made Jimmy feel sick. He would never let his daughter become a monster.

With a yell, Jimmy ran toward Henry.

XxX

Henry braced himself for the attack that he was sure was coming his way. Jimmy faked a punch, making Henry block the feint and leaving him open for the stab to the shoulder. Henry growled in pain and annoyance and lunged at Jimmy. He grabbed his shoulders and shoved him onto the floor, straddling his waist and continually punching Jimmy, despite his injured shoulder. Jimmy tried in vain to black. Abby screamed and ran toward them.

"Abby get out of here!" Jimmy yelled. "Take Dawn and leave!"

"No!" she shouted. She refused to leave someone she loved alone to die.

Abby ran behind Henry and lifted the kitchen knife high above her head. Her half-brother kicked his leg out and tripped her. Abby fell, but she lashed out with her weapon. Henry howled as the knife cut a deep slash into his back. This gave Jimmy enough time to punch him, flipping their position so that he now had his rough, calloused hands around henry's throat. Jimmy's rage filled him and he squeezed. He hated this man gasping for breath under him. He hated how that cool, taunting look in his eyes never seemed to leave. He hated that Henry had shattered the peace of their simple life. He wanted to kill him. Henry pulled at the fisherman's hands, but Jimmy's grip was tight.

XxX

Abby watched her husband strangle her brother. The look in Jimmy's eyes made her afraid of him. It was the same look of rage henry had when she'd proclaimed her love for Jimmy in the shed. Jimmy couldn't kill Henry. He couldn't _be_ like Henry. Abby wouldn't let him turn into a monster.

"Jimmy, Jimmy stop!" she whispered, putting her hand on his shaking shoulder.

Jimmy ignored her.

"Jimmy, don't become a murderer. Don't be like him," Abby pleaded.

"He's a killer Abbs," Jimmy tried to reason with her, his grip never faltering. "This is self-defense, just like before."

"He should be locked up, where he can't hurt anybody ever again." Abby wanted Jimmy to understand. "Jimmy _please_."

XxX

Henry could barely breathe. In reality, his sister's and her husband's conversation lasted only seconds, but the words resonated through his being. _Abby didn't want him dead! _The thought filled him with warmth. As the conversation went on, jimmy lost his resolve, and although the grip was still tight, Henry found that he could breathe.

"Is this because he's Dawn's father?" Jimmy asked quietly.

"She's your daughter!" Abby shouted firmly. "Yours!"

_Abby, you have that wrong_, Henry thought sadly.

"She wouldn't want to see you like this!" Abby continued.

Jimmy looked down at Henry, then back at his wife, indecision clouding his eyes. Henry took this opportunity to strike. He hit Jimmy in the solar plexus, then cupped the back of his head to guide it into an elbow. Henry knew he was too injured to win this fight, but he could escape. He kicked the stunned fisherman off him and went to Abby. She was frozen in fear. Jimmy couldn't help her, he was in a ball on the ground, groaning and trying to fight the pain radiating through his body. He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't work.

"Abby…" he breathed, trying to get her to understand, to run away, to leave him.

Henry walked to his half-sister and cupped her cheek with his hand. He leaned forward and right before his lips touched hers he whispered. "I'll come back."

He kissed her, and it was just as, if not more so, terrible than the first time. Maybe it was worse because of his promise before the kiss, or that Jimmy was in the room. Abby felt helpless, she hated that feeling, but it consumed her. She could only stare at Henry.

"I love you," he said.

Fueled purely on adrenaline, and ignoring his injuries, Henry ran out of the home, but not without hearing something shatter behind him. He guessed it was something Abby had thrown at him, too bad she missed.

Henry thought he saw movement in the truck, but he couldn't stick around to verify if he'd been right. Wakefield's child ran, staunching the bleeding in his shoulder with his hand.

He had meant what he said to Abby. All of it.

XxX

Dawn watched a figure run out of her home. He seemed injured, and when he paused briefly to glance at her hiding spot, she was afraid she'd have to use the crowbar in her hand. The figure continued on however, running away. Dawn waited to see if he would come back, then climbed out of the truck.

She still clutched the crowbar in her hand, and was prepared to use it if she needed to.

After all, she was her father's daughter.


	7. Gasp

Gasp

Dawn gripped the metal in her hand, preparing for the worst. She didn't know if the man who ran out of her house was alone or not. Maybe his friend was still in her. She sneaked through the hall, listening to her mother's gasping cries. She wanted to say something, but didn't want to give herself away. Dawn looked down and found a blood trail. She knew this was the time when the characters from her books would follow the trail. The ten-year-old was afraid, so she pretended to be someone who liked danger and mysteries. She pretended to be a character so she wouldn't turn and run back to the truck. She pretended to be brave like her parents were. Dawn gulped and followed the blood, praying it didn't belong to anyone she knew. She came to the living room and found a scene straight from a horror movie. Furniture was turned over and flipped. Blood and shattered pieces of a lamp were all over the floor. Her mother was off to the side, crying. Her dark eyes finally found Jimmy, her Dad. He was lying on the ground, bleeding. He was alive, she could tell by his labored breathing. He looked up and she saw cuts and bruises on his face. Tears sprung into her eyes to see her Dad like that. Dawn promised herself that if she ever found the mad guy who did this to her parents, she'd pay back the favor.

"Dawn! I told you to stay in the truck!" Jimmy yelled hoarsely.

Dawn loosened her grip on her weapon and let her arms fall limply to her sides. She knew he wasn't angry just at her. He was afraid for her, but Jimmy didn't have to be, the bad guy was gone. He left. Dawn sniffled, emotions conflicting in her heart. Happiness at her parents being alive, anger (or was it hatred?), at the one who had done this to them, and sadness at seeing them in this state.

"Dawn!" Abby yelled, running to her daughter and picking her up, holding her tightly to her chest.

XxX

Jimmy was in pain. He knew he was bleeding because of that bastard punching him so many times. He knew Abby had thrown something as Henry retreated, but he didn't know what. He wanted to stand, wanted to run to the Truck and make sure Dawn was still there, that Henry didn't see her and take her away. He wanted to stand but found it hard to do so. He heard Abby crying and he wanted to comfort her, but to do that, he'd have to get up. Jimmy braced himself up on his elbows and observed the scene. Blood ran into his eyes and he wearily wiped it away. His eyes finally fell on a small figure standing in the doorway, clutching a crowbar. Jimmy observed his...no, she was his daughter, no matter who made up her genes, his daughter was standing all alone. Jimmy wanted to say something, but then he saw her posture, how she held the crowbar…he saw the look in her eyes.

He saw the same look in Henry's eyes only moments before, when Henry was trying to kill him.

No, dawn wasn't like Henry. She would never be, he'd make sure of that. But the way she held that crowbar…she looked like…well, like a killer. She seemed ready to kill someone. Anger filled his veins and he unintentionally yelled at her.

"Dawn! I told you to stay in the truck!" he didn't mean to put his anger and fear onto her, but it just came out. Jimmy's voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears.

He watched as Dawn seemed to relax, no longer a killer and once again becoming a scared ten-year-old girl. That was fine by Jimmy, he could deal with scared. He heard her start to cry and that seemed to catch his wife's attention.

"Dawn!" she yelled.

Jimmy watched through eyes blocked by blood and sweat as his wife comforted her child. Abby clutched Dawn to her chest, muttering soothing things to her. Dawn began to breathe heavily, and Jimmy suddenly found that he could stand, thanks to the new adrenaline rushing through his veins. He stood and walked over to his family.

"Dawnie, relax. We're OK," he said, putting his bloody hand on her shaking shoulder.

Abby was worried. Dawn couldn't get too worked up or…

"D-Dad?" she stuttered, trying to calm down. Jimmy smiled down at the little girl.

"Hey Dawn," he went to stroke her hair, but stopped, not wanting his blood to get on her.

The little girl lunged from her mother's arms to her father's, wrapping her small arms around his neck. "Daddy I'm sorry!" she sobbed.

Abby relinquished her hold on her child and gave her to Jimmy. Dawn sobbed and gasped, while Jimmy tried to calm her down.

"I'm sorry!" she said over and over.

"Dawn sweetie, it's not your fault," the fisherman soothed.

The little girl pulled her face away from Jimmy's shoulder, her cheek now covered in his blood. Jimmy's blood from his cuts had run down his neck and onto his chest, staining his gray T-shirt. He was sure it wasn't all his, much to his pleasure. At least Henry hadn't gotten away scot-free. Jimmy was worried about getting the blood on Dawn, but the child didn't seem to care.

"What h-happened?' Dawn blubbered.

The little girl pulled away to look back at her mother, her eyes searching for answers.

XxX

Abby stared at her daughter. She was covered in blood, not her own, but the effect was frightening. Abby had flashbacks of her mother and father, of Trish, of her friends…all dead.

Dawn could be next.

Henry had promised that he wouldn't kill her, but what if he found her to be in the way? What if he decided it was too late to play Daddy, and killed her? What if he found her too much like Jimmy, although, when she came into the room, the look in her daughter's eyes screamed Wakefield. Abby suddenly couldn't breathe. She turned and ran down the hallway, going up the stairs to the room she and Jimmy couldn't deal with it. She couldn't deal with any of this. They needed to leave. She and her family needed to get the hell out of LA and go somewhere Henry would never find them.

XxX

Dawn watched her mother run away.

"Abby!" Jimmy called, putting dawn on the ground and chasing after her. "Abby!"

Dawn stared at her father's back as he disappeared up the stairs. She heard loud talking, then just plain yelling. The child slowly began to climb the stairs, listening to her parents the entire time.

XxX

"Abby what the hell?" Jimmy asked when he came upon the scene.

Jimmy had entered their room to find his wife packing, well…if you could call ripping drawers open and shoving clothes into a suitcase packing. Abby was crying, but as she continued her panicked packing she furiously wiped them away.

"We have to leave Jimmy," she said quietly.

"Abby, calm down. We'll call the police, they'll take care of it…"

"What have the police ever done for us Jimmy?" Abby cut in loudly. "They…They didn't stop Wakefield and they didn't save us the second time. They didn't even tell us they didn't find Henry's body! Who's going to believe us?"

Jimmy inhaled and exhaled deeply, "Abby, you need to calm down. Dawn's downstairs she might—"

"Dawn! Oh God Jimmy, what if he'd found Dawn! We need to leave! Before he comes back!" Abby resumed her hectic actions.

Jimmy crossed the room and firmly took his wife by the shoulders. "Abby, you need to stop. Just calm down. We need to think about this…"

"No Jimmy!" Abby pulled away from him. "I'm tired of waiting around for henry to come back and destroy everything again! We can't stay here, he knows where we live!"

"Where will we go Abby?" Jimmy shouted, unable to control his anger and frustration. "If he found us here, who's to say the bastard won't find us again?"

"I don't know! But if we stay here, you'll die! Maybe Dawn too!"

Jimmy bristled at the thought of Dawn's death. "Don't say that Abby," he said in an even tone. "Don't."

"Why not?" Abby was getting hysterical. "He's killed everyone else! Shane, Sully, Nikki, Danny, Malcolm, my Dad…Trish and J.D.! He was going to kill Madison and Shea too! He told me! He's capable of anything!"

"You think I don't know that?" Jimmy shot back. "He had me tied up in a shed Abby, planning to pin all the murders on me! Make me Wakefield's accomplice! All I'm saying is that we can't just go running without a plan!"

"He'll_ kill_ you if he finds us!" Abby didn't get why Jimmy didn't seem to understand that.

"I know!"

Suddenly, they heard crying and gasping. Both parents turned to see Dawn, sobbing in the doorway. The color drained from their faces as they realized that she wasn't gasping because she was crying…it was because she couldn't breathe.

"Dawn!" Jimmy yelled, going over to his daughter and kneeling in front of her. "Dawn, baby, calm down. Your asthma…" but Jimmy saw it was already too late. He cursed mentally and took his daughter by her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "It's going to be OK Dawn, try to relax. I'm here, your Mom's here, everything's OK."

"B-But s-she…" dawn tried to get out between her gasps and sobs.

"No no sweetie," Jimmy pulled her into a hug.

"M-Mom s-said you were…gonna…die," the thought made the child cry harder, making her gasp for breath, more so than she already had.

"Abby! Her inhaler!" Jimmy called.

He heard Abby searching for it, cursing. Jimmy picked Dawn up and walked into the hallway. He sat down and held her in his lap. Her back was against his chest, and Jimmy scanned his mind frantically, trying to remember what the doctors had told him if she ever had a severe attack. The last time Dawn had an attack was when she was seven. Abby couldn't find the inhaler, which was why Jimmy was quietly panicking as he held his daughter.

"Dawn, we'll do this together OK? We'll slow it down together," Jimmy said, trying to keep his voice even. He felt Dawn nod so he went on. "Feel my chest. Breathe like me. Slowly. In and out." He felt Dawn trying, listening to his direction, but she began to go limp in his arms. "Stay with me!" he said a little too loudly. "Stay with me baby. I know it hurts, but it'll be OK." Tears slipped out of his eyes. "Be strong sweetie. It'll stop I promise." Dawn gripped his jeans in her small fists. "Don't be afraid Dawn. Everything's going to be fine." Dawn's breathing had slowed, but Jimmy didn't want to take any chances. "Keep breathing with me. It's alright. We're fine." He leaned forward so Dawn could breathe easier. The doctor had said it was easier to breathe when you were leaning forward instead of back. "Just breathe baby."

After all that, Dawn could breathe normally again. Abby appeared at Jimmy's side and hugged them.

"Thank God," she muttered.

Jimmy looked at his wife and reflected on recent events. Well, he finally had an explanation as to why she had such a severe case of asthma. Inbred children (could he even think of Dawn in that way?) could develop diseases.

XxX

At this moment, Abby didn't care about Henry. She only cared about her husband, and how he had just saved her…their (because like Jimmy said, Dawn was his) daughter from death. Abby had been useless, searching for that damn inhaler. It didn't matter though, because they were all together and safe, maybe a little battered, but together and safe.

For now.

XxX

Dawn could breathe again, thanks to her Dad. While her parents held her and cried, Dawn held in her tears.

She had heard them yelling, had heard almost everything.

Whoever had come into the house had killed a lot of people, her parents' friends. Her mother wanted to run away, and it sounded like a good plan to Dawn, but Jimmy did have a point. Was this how dawn had to live her life now? Being afraid of every stranger she met? Live in fear of getting killed, or her Dad getting killed? Her mother had shouted that fact over and over, giving yet another good reason to run. Who was this man anyway? If the police couldn't help, what were they supposed to do? Dawn knew she couldn't get worked up again, or else she'd have another asthma attack. Dawn hated that feeling. She felt like she was going to die, and she very well could, if no one helped her. As her Mom continued to cry and her Dad stopped, dawn made a promise to herself.

If she ever found the man who did this…there'd be Hell to pay.

She would make sure of that.

**A/N Ok, so thank you to everyone who comments and for all your ideas and support. If you didn't understand, when Jimmy thought in the chapter before this about how Dawn was alright except for one thing, he was talking about the asthma. Please leave comments they make me motivated to write more! **


	8. Slam

Slam

_Seven Years Later…_

"Abby…"

Abby covered her ears. She got to her feet and she ran. She ran through the trees, trying to escape the owner of the voice. She stumbled over the roots of a tree but she regained her footing and kept going. Faces flashed across her mind's eye. Her daughter, her husband…what had he done with them? Where were they?

"Abby! If anyone's on the island they're miles away! Abby stop!" her brother called behind her.

She couldn't. She had to keep running. Had to keep going. She couldn't stop.

She tore through the brush and found gravel under her shoes. Through her blurry vision, she saw the church.

"Abby!"

Her dark eyes glanced behind her, then she made a decision. She ran into the church.

Wakefield's son followed.

Abby Mills ran up the aisle. She was stopped in her tracks when she looked at the altar.

Jimmy was slumped over it, his shirt saturated with blood. Abby took shuddering breaths, trying not to sob. She took a few steps closer. It looked like Jimmy was on top of someone, like he'd been trying to protect them or…

"NO!" she screamed, running forward.

Abby reached the altar and looked at her family. Jimmy was slumped over Dawn, his unseeing brown eyes seemed to be looking at the new widow. Dawn, her baby girl, Henry's child, Jimmy's daughter…her throat was slit, forever painted in a morbid smile. Jimmy had dirt on his cheeks, but there were trails of cleanliness. So he'd found Dawn this way, and while he was distracted Henry ran him through with the boarding knife. Dawn's eyes were closed, and as she reached out a hand to stroke her daughter's cheek, she wondered how she felt in her final moments. Terror? Hatred? Did she tell her biological father to go to hell? To die? Did she call him anything? Had she been brave? Did she fight? What had Jimmy done when he'd found her? Did he swear vengeance, or did he even have long enough to do so? Did Henry kill him mere seconds after he found Dawn? Abby's head spun with questions. When her hand touched the young girl's neck, she lost it. Any composure Abby had cracked and she fell onto her knees with a heart wrenching sob. Jimmy's words echoed through her mind.

_I'd never leave you alone like that. _

Abby covered her mouth, trying and failing to stifle her cries. Memories flashed across her mind; Jimmy laughing, Dawn smiling, the family eating dinner.

Abby cried harder.

_How could this have happened?_ She thought miserably.

"Abby?" his voice was like a dagger, piercing through her sadness and thoughts.

She stood shakily to her feet and turned to glare her own daggers at him. "You did this," her voice was thick with hate.

Henry nodded.

"Why?" she rasped. "You said you wouldn't kill Dawn. You said if I came willingly Jimmy would live."

"I had to lie…how else was I going to get you to come back home? To come back to me?"

"But Dawn…!"

"I was going to let our child live, but then…" he paused, thinking. "She wouldn't listen to reason. She ran and did some things that were very…" he glared at the dead body. "Jimmy-like. She was too much like Jimmy, and since she was seventeen, I figured I wouldn't be able to change that. I didn't want to kill her Abbs, but she didn't embarrass herself. She fought hard to the end. I did give her a quick death."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" her voice trembled.

Henry smiled. "Now there's nothing standing in our way. We can be together."

Abby did the only thing she could do.

She screamed.

XxX

"Abby!"

Her eyes shot open and she sat up, glancing around. Abby only relaxed when she found herself to be in her room…it'd only been a nightmare.

"What happened?" Jimmy asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

The years had been kind to the married couple. Both still looked relatively young and attractive.

"Henry killed you and Dawn," a single tear fell down her cheek.

Jimmy wiped it away and pulled his wife into his lap, "We're alright. We've been alright for seven years. He won't find us."

Abby nodded dumbly.

"Come on then," Jimmy said, looking at the clock. "We have to go to work still. Don't you have a meeting with your publisher?"

"Yeah," Abby sighed, hauling herself out of their bed and going to the bathroom.

XxX

Dawn put the bacon on a plate then put it on the table with the rest of the food.

"Done," she mumbled to herself.

She usually made breakfast for her parents. She'd started when she was twelve, and now, five years later, she still did, and happily so.

It'd been seven years since her night from hell. Since then, she and her parents had moved to Arizona. Her physical appearance had changed too of course. She was a teenager now, with a thin, wiry body and small curves. Her dark brown hair tumbled to her waist, while her eyes hadn't gotten any lighter. They were still almost black. She had gotten slight color from the constant sun, but she couldn't be called tan.

"Mornin'," her dad greeted, walking into the kitchen for breakfast.

"Hey Dad," she leaned over and kissed his cheek as he sat down, helping himself to the food laid out.

"Catch some fish today," Dawn said.

Jimmy smiled. Despite what some may believe, there was fishing in Arizona, which was good for Jimmy, because he loved it. He found another restaurant to work for and got paid a nice salary.

"Good morning," Abby greeted, sitting down next to her husband.

"Got a meeting today Mom?" Dawn asked.

Abby nodded as she took a bite of her toast. "The publisher."

Abby had published (under a penname) her own novels. Her most popular was the one she based off her experiences on Harper's Island. Dawn knew everything that had happened, but her parents couldn't bring themselves to tell her about her true parentage. She still believed that Jimmy was her biological father. They also didn't tell her that 'John', who she met at the beach had really been Henry. They didn't want her to feel guilty. Abby and Jimmy knew they would have to tell her someday.

"What are you going to do Dawnie?" Jimmy asked. It was summer, therefore Dawn had no school to worry about.

"I figured I'd go into town. The book store is having a sale today."

"Like you need more books," Abby laughed.

The family continued to have pleasant conversation, until the parents left. They kissed each other, then Dawn, got into the cars and pulled away from the house.

XxX

Dawn watched her parents go through the window. As the truck and car disappeared, a frown tugged on her lips. Dawn would never admit this, but at seventeen, she still didn't like being alone. She walked to her bed and sat down, biting her lip. She put her hair over her shoulder and went about braiding it, trying to give herself something to do. After a few minutes, she was done. The silence through the house was killing her. She looked around her room and noted how she hadn't really changed the format of her walls since she was ten. They were still covered with pictures of anything and everything she liked. She stood and went downstairs, checking all the doors and windows. Of course, she knew that if _he_ really wanted in, he'd have no problem.

She knew it was Henry who hurt her family, seven years ago and on Harper's. Sometimes she had nightmares about finding her parents dead, but since she'd never seen the psycho murderer, she had no face to put to the shadow figure in her dreams. Sure she'd seen the pictures, but she didn't know if he'd changed or not. Dawn was afraid of someone she had never met…it seemed laughable.

Dawn shook her head and decided to go out. She put her phone, wallet, inhaler, keys, and iPod in her pockets. When she was almost out the door, she turned and grabbed one last thing.

A switchblade.

Jimmy gave it to her when she was thirteen. He taught her how to use it and told her to always have it on her. He wanted her to be safe. She always had it with her. Her mother didn't know about it, but that was alright. Dawn didn't mind keeping that secret from her. Her and Jimmy shared a lot of secrets…like her pension for getting into fights. Not with girls either, but boys. Dawn had a temper, but it wasn't too bad. Not as bad as Henry's.

Dawn looked at the blade in her hand and thought about what would happen if she ever had to use it. Her father had been clear. Only use it if her life was in danger. Her thoughts strayed to vengeance against Henry for what he'd done. Even as a child, she'd know she hated him, would hurt him like he hurt her family if she ever got the chance. The switchblade went into her pocket and she left the house. She began to walk toward town.

XxX

As Abby drove her car, she found herself getting distracted by the nightmare she had. She lived in fear every day. She woke up asking herself, "Would Henry come back today?" She was so afraid that sometimes she didn't want to leave the house. Abby hated having someone else control her life, so she toughed it out and lived. She was happy with her life, but always, not matter what, always the fear was lurking in the shadows of her mind, waiting for any small reminder of her half-brother. Abby heard the blare of a horn and she snapped pout of her reverie. She hit the gas and continued to drive.

XxX

Dawn exited the book store. She smiled softly to herself at her latest find…a special edition of _The Outsiders. _It was one of her favorite novels. She wanted to be a writer, as good as S.E. Hinton and her mother. She entertained a few ideas for stories, but she never wrote them down, and she wasn't devoted enough to keep a journal. Still, she loved to daydream, and sometimes she scribbled poems or lyrics without real thought. Of course, she was only seventeen, she had her whole life to plan what she would want to do. She also liked the idea of being a musician, since she played the piano. Maybe she'd be a social worker. Dawn didn't know, but for now, she looked forward to going home and reading her new book, planning on using her music to fill the haunting silence.

XxX

Jimmy cursed himself out loud. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten his toolbox when the boat needed some repair. He pulled into the driveway, and then got out of his truck, slamming the door as he did so, still cursing. He was going to be late now.

He opened the door and called, "Dawn?"

He received no reply. Jimmy shrugged, figuring she had walked to town. He walked down the hallway and headed toward the living room, because despite Abby's numerous protests, his tools were in the living room closet. Jimmy opened the closet. He heard a noise behind him, but before he could turn around, an arm was wrapped around his neck, nearly crushing his windpipe.

"Hey Jimmy," someone hissed in his ear.

"Henry," although his voice was strangled, hatred was clear.

Jimmy heard Henry breathe out a laugh.

XxX

Dawn walked into her house. The door slammed shut behind her. She waited for the reprimand she was sure would follow. Her parents hated when she slammed the door. She pulled her light jacket off, leaving her in a gray tank top and jeans. The teenager glanced down and found something odd.

It was a necklace.

A necklace she hadn't seen in seven years.

Dawn picked it up and studied the blue lettering. It was her name. The last time she'd seen this necklace was…

Seven years ago.

Her hand trembled as she shoved the piece of jewelry into her pocket. The bag from the store still in her hand, she rushed down the hallway.

"Dad?" she called. She'd seen his truck in the driveway, so she knew Jimmy was home. When he didn't answer, she knew something wasn't right.

As she turned the corner to go up the stairs, she glanced at the entryway to the living room.

She would never forget what she saw.

"DAD!" she screamed, dropping the bag and running toward Jimmy. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

The fisherman was lying face down on the floor. Blood pooled around his head. The inbred child stared in horror at the body. It didn't look like he was breathing.

"Oh God," she whispered, her breaths becoming labored.

No, she couldn't have an attack now. She knew she was in danger. Only one person would do this…

"Dawn," a voice from behind addressed her.

She slowly got to her feet and turned (still slowly) to face the incarnation of her nightmares.

"Hi Dawn," Henry greeted, smiling slightly from his position on the stairs.

Dawn stared at him, having to slightly incline her head since he was elevated above the floor. He looked the same as before, in the pictures she saw. The years had been kind to him as they'd been kind to her parents. For some reason, this made her hate him more. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her knife, opening it behind her back and waiting. If he was going to try and kill her, she'd be ready. He better be. She would go down fighting.

XxX

Henry stared at his daughter. It had taken seven years, but he'd found her again. He now knew what had fueled his father into finding him. He smiled at Dawn, taking in her appearance. She'd grown up to be beautiful, just like her mother. Her hair was in a braid, and her dark eyes glittered with determination. Her hands were behind her back, doing what he didn't know.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, a twinge of fear in his voice. He was so nervous.

She nodded, "You're Henry, the man who killed all those people on Harper's Island. You're the one who did this to my Dad."

Henry Wakefield felt a pang in his heart when she called Jimmy her father, but he comforted himself with the fact that he would set her straight soon.

Dawn continued on, "You're the reason my Mom can't sleep. You're the one who give me nightmares." She took a breath. "You're the reason we're always afraid."

Her hand came in front of her, brandishing a switchblade.

"You're the man I'm going to hurt the way you hurt my family."

Henry felt his smile turn into a grin.


	9. Klap

Klap

Henry grinned at the sight of the switchblade. He looked in his daughter's eyes and saw what he was almost sure was the same look he'd had before he killed someone. He loved seeing it reflected back at him, in his child's eyes. He wanted to see what Dawn could do, but he was confident she wouldn't be able to kill him. He was a little caught off guard when he heard her come in. He hadn't even checked Jimmy yet, he'd wanted to look around upstairs. Henry hoped that the blood surrounding his rival in love's head was an indication that the blow he dealt him was fatal. He focused back on his daughter. He waited for her to attack. Henry was excited, a feeling he hadn't felt in a while.

XxX

Dawn glared at her biological father. She wanted to hurt him, maybe even kill him. Her eyes glanced down at Jimmy briefly, then shot back up. She didn't want to look at her Dad. She might panic. Blind panic would not help her. Dawn had to focus. She ran over everything Jimmy ever taught her in her mind. She should start with a fake low, than stab high. Run the blade out, cutting him more. While he's distracted by the pain thrust the knife into his chest. Once incapacitated choke him out then call the cops.

Sounded good.

If only she knew what she was fighting against exactly.

XxX

Henry waited for her. He couldn't wait to see what his daughter could do. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. He watched the knife glint in the low light. He wondered if she was like him, like he'd been. He watched his daughter's shoulders, waiting.

Her right shoulder moved, the hand holding the knife charged toward him. She aimed low, right for his kidney. Henry went to block the strike, but then Dawn switched directions. The teen pivoted her elbow, aiming for his shoulder. Henry parried the wrist, ducking his head to avoid the blade as it was hit up. He expected Dawn to drop the knife, he had hit her wrist hard, but she held tight and seemed to anticipate his move. Dawn stabbed toward him again, this time aiming for his neck. The father grabbed her wrist again, but this time Dawn let herself be pulled into him, then used their combined momentum to drive her elbow into his stomach. Henry bent over, wheezing in pain. Dawn didn't stop. She brought her elbow into his face, trying to make him let go of her arm. When his grip finally loosened, she wretched her arm free. Henry silently cursed and grabbed for his daughter again, finding her braid in his grasp. Henry Wakefield pulled his inbred child back, causing her to yell in shock. He knocked the knife from her hand and kicked it away, planning on retrieving it later.

XxX

Dawn yelled in frustration. She struggled against Henry's grip on her hair. A conversation she and her Dad had filled her mind.

"_Dawn, are you ever going to cut your hair?"_

"_No, I wasn't planning on it."_

"_Then you have to know how to defend against a hair grab. You have a lot of it, people will go for that."_

"_Really?"_

_Her Dad nodded._

Dawn's memory supplied the defense. She grabbed Henry's wrist, ducked, and spun to face him. His face twisted in pain, making his grip loose. She kneed his stomach, forcing him to release her. Having no time to find the knife, she ran up the stairs. She heard Henry following behind, his boots slamming against the wooden stairs.

Klap. Klap. Klap. Klap…

XxX

Henry was impressed by his daughter's fighting skills. He supposed Jimmy was responsible, at least the damn fisherman had done something right. The father watched his inbred child turn the corner and slam into one of the rooms. When he himself turned the corner, he was met with a hallway.

There were five doors.

He wasn't sure which Dawn had gone through, but it wouldn't be hard to find out. He wondered if he could get her to come out on her own.

"Dawn, I know you can hear me," he spoke clearly. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk. There's something very important you need to know."

Silence was his only answer. Henry walked over to the door one his left. He had to start somewhere.

XxX

Dawn had run into her room on instinct. Her room was her safe haven. It was her place to relax and get away from everyone. She always went to her room when her parents were fighting. Now, with her desk chair jammed under the knob, it was her fortress. The only place she could get away from Henry. Her dark eyes scanned the room, looking for something, _anything_, to use against the serial killer currently looking for her.

"Dawn, I know you can hear me," His voice resonated through the hall, the door, through her soul. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk. There's something very important you need to know."

She found nothing.

Dawn cursed to herself. Her eyes fell on the chair, specifically, the legs of the chair.

Only two legs were on the ground. She could detach one of the ones in the air. Of course, that meant she'd have to be quiet. He couldn't know what she was doing.

"I bet Abby never told you, but that's OK, because that means I get to tell you myself," he spoke deliberately while Dawn could hear him opening a door.

The teen crouched next to the chair and grasped a leg. _Lefty loosey, righty tighty. _Jimmy's words to her as a child echoed through her mind as she unscrewed the leg. It squeaked every now and then, making the knot of fear in her stomach grow. What if Henry heard her?

Henry was opening another door, closer this time. "Dawn, please come out."

_Please? _What was he playing at?

"You know, Jimmy's probably dead down there."

With the leg free, the inbred child stepped away from the door and clutched her new weapon in her hand. Was he trying to scare her into coming out? Did he hope she'd run downstairs in a vain attempt to prove him wrong? Dawn felt her chest tighten. She had flashbacks of seven years ago. She couldn't breathe.

Dawn fumbled in her pocket for her inhaler. When she finally found it, she pressed down on it and gasped in the medicine. She hadn't had an attack for months, Henry seemed to be able to make her loose her breath so easily. She dropped it on her bed and waited.

_Klap, klap, klap, klap…_ his booted footsteps echoed through the hallway.

XxX

Henry already cleared two rooms, three to go. He was about to open the third when something on the floor caught his eye. He strode toward the object.

It was her wallet.

Henry picked it up and smiled. "Dawn, are you missing something?"

He got no answer, but that was alright. The wallet had told him everything he needed to know. She was in her room. Wakefield's child turned to face the door.

XxX

"Dawn, are you missing something?" the murderer called.

The teenager cursed mentally and checked her pockets. She felt like screaming. She lost her wallet. Henry must have found it.

Dawn heard her unknown father at her door, she prepared to swing.

XxX

Henry turned the knob, but couldn't open the door.

"Are you hiding in there Dawnie?" he asked. "Why don't you open the door?"

He heard shuffling inside.

"Are you going to make me come in?" he almost laughed at himself. He sounded like a parent.

He brought his knee up and kicked.

The door shook, but remained closed.

So he kicked it again.

And again.

And again.

XxX

The door shook. The wood was splintering. Dawn's breath was coming in short gasps again. She steeled herself against the fear and waited for the door to break.

On the fourth kick, it did.

The chair went toppling across the room, colliding with the bedside table. The door slammed against the wall. Dawn was looking into the face of Henry Dunn. He smiled when he saw her, and took a step forward. She in turn, took one step back.

"Dawn, you don't need to be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Like she'd believe anything he said. He hurt her Dad (She refused to let herself think he was dead).

"What do you want?" she asked, voice shaking slightly.

Henry's expression became one of sympathy. "It's alright Dawn. Everything's fine."

"What do you WANT?" she yelled, losing her patience.

"I just want you to know the truth, the truth about your birth."

"What are you talking about?"

XxX

"What are you talking about?"

Henry felt a pain in his chest as he looked at his distressed daughter. He should really just tell her, rip the Band-Aid off so to speak.

"I'm your Dad, not Jimmy."

Dawn stared at him. She blinked. She didn't say anything.

"Dawn?"

"Dad was right, you are crazy," she finally spoke quietly.

Henry's anger flared at Dawn calling Jimmy Dad, just as it always did. Also, being called crazy did not improve his mood.

"Listen to me," he said, taking another step forward. "Abby and I slept together, you came from our love, you're like me, not Jimmy."

"You're lying," she whispered. Henry watched as tears began to spill from her eyes.

He took another slow step, "No sweetie, I'm not. Think about it. You look like me, not him."

"Shut up!" Dawn yelled.

"You know I'm right Dawn. You've felt it, haven't you? The impulse to kill?" Henry lowered his voice, trying to console his sobbing child.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed.

"It's OK Dawn, I felt it too, when I was your age. My Dad taught me what to do, I'll help you."

He watched her shake her head. He took another step closer. Henry could almost touch his lost daughter, but he held back. The chair leg gave him a healthy dose of caution. After all, he's seen what she could do with a knife. The next move was hers.

XxX

Dawn stared at Henry, tears fell from her eyes. He was lying. He had to be. There was no way she could be born from this monster, this wolf in sheep's clothing. But…

She shook her head violently. No! She couldn't let herself think that, not even for a second, if she did she'd be playing right into his hand. But…

But she knew what he was talking about, the impulse to kill. She never told her parents, but it wasn't a universal impulse. No, it only focused on one person.

It focused on Henry Dunn.

As many times as Dawn had dreamed of him killing her family, she'd dreamed of killing him as well. She never felt such a craving, such an absolute need to act before. When she awoke, she would console herself in the way most do "It was only a dream". The teen knew however, that the desire she'd felt, the impulse as her so-called father called it, was no dream.

It all made sense now, if Henry was indeed her father. She looked like him. She thought like him. But that meant…

Dawn swallowed. She was an inbred, if Henry was to be believed.

And…since she knew her mother would never _willingly_ sleep with this man, she supposed she was conceived from rape as well. The revelations were enough to make her head spin, but now was not the time. When Henry was lying in a puddle of his on blood on the floor of her bedroom, then, and only then, can she think about everything he told her.

Suddenly she found him too close. He was going to grab her, she knew it. Dawn cursed herself for being so distracted. That was his plan, shock her then attack while she was confused. With a yell, Dawn swung around, aiming the chair leg at his head.

XxX

Henry saw the weapon coming. His hands shot out to strike the arm that held the it, stopping her mid-swing.

"NO!" his daughter shouted, trying to pull her arm away.

Henry pulled Dawn to him, her back against his chest. His arms were chains around her body, making her unable to move. She squirmed and tried to escape, but he wouldn't let her move.

"Calm down Dawn," he said, trying for a parental tone.

"Get the hell off me!" she screeched, panicking.

Henry held her tighter, wanting her to understand. He'd finally found her, he was never letting her go.

Never.

XxX

Dawn knew nothing would work. He was going to do whatever the hell he wanted, just like before. He was going to kill her, just like he killed her Dad. Her Mom was going to come home to find their bodies, covered in blood. And Henry. Henry will be waiting for her. He'll lock her away again, this time forever.

Dawn couldn't let that happen.

With a rebel, animalistic yell, she threw her weight down, bending at the waist. She brought her head up and bashed Henry in the face. A satisfying crunch spurred her on. Using the space she'd gained with her head butt, she pivoted and hit his solar plexus, then kicked him in the back of the knee. Dawn then shoved him down onto the floor, out of her way. She needed to get away. She needed to run, to find a phone, to get out of the house, to her Dad…anything!

Her Converse slapped against the floor as she bolted down the hall. They squeaked when she turned. The teen almost lost her balance. She had to grip the railing to prevent falling. Slight movement caught her eye.

Had she imagined it, or…?

Or had Jimmy just moved.

"Dad?" she whispered, frozen at the top of the stairs.

"DAD!" she yelled suddenly, spurred on by the hope of help, of not being alone to face this beast. "DAD!"

While she was screaming, Henry came up behind her. He grabbed her in a headlock.

"DAD! HELP!"

"Shh," Henry soothed, as he cut off her air. "Don't fight it Dawn. You'll only make it worse."

Dawn felt the blood stop flowing to her head. He cut off the blood flow completely, to and from the brain. Her face began to heat up and black danced across her vision. She tried breathing, but her father was crushing her throat. A haggard wheeze escaped her mouth, a pathetic attempt to get air into her lungs.

"It's OK Dawn, everything's going to be fine," Henry continued to soothe.

She didn't understand how he could blatantly lie so easily. He was killing her. He was choking her out. Dawn lashed out with her legs in a desperate, final attempt at freedom. She felt Henry kiss the top of her head as her vision went dark.

"It's OK Dawnie."

When would he stop talking? She could still hear him. Her body may be failing but her mind…her mind was…

_I'm sorry_ was the last thought she had before being plunged into oblivion.

XxX

As soon as Dawn went limp, Henry released his grip. He picked his daughter up into his arms, much like he would have carried Trish over the threshold of their honeymoon suite, and carried her down the stairs. Breezing past his dead rival, he placed his daughter on the couch. Henry crouched next to her a moment, stroking her hair. She looked so peaceful in her forced sleep. He suddenly remembered her knife and stood to find it. He walked past Jimmy and into the hallway. Henry's dark eyes studied the floor. He leaned down and picked the blade up, but a plastic bag caught his eye. The murderer picked that up as well. Henry peered into the bag and found one thing: a book. The Wakefield shrugged and dropped the knife into the bag. He walked back to his daughter and decided it was time to leave. Henry Dunn lifted Dawn into his arms and walked out of the house, knowing he wouldn't be coming back.

Neither would Dawn.

_**Ok, so I have been getting comments, and although I appreciate them so much, I want more. I'm thinking of changing the name of the story to "Daddy's Little Girl". If you have an idea for a title please tell me.**_


	10. Slap

Slap

Henry drove the boat. He loved feeling the air rush over him and the spray on his skin. The boat rose and fell as it met the waves head on, and he found himself laughing. He was so happy in this moment. He closed his eyes briefly and listened to the waves slap against the side of the boat. He knew he was the only craft in the area. No one dared to venture out near his destination.

_Oops_, Henry glanced over his shoulder at his unconscious daughter. _Our destination. Our home._

He had wrapped Dawn in a blanket, because the Seattle air was brisk. He didn't want her to get sick. She was still out, but it wasn't because of the choke. No, if he had only relied on his violence, she would be awake now. In fact…

Henry glanced over his shoulder at her one more time. Dawn didn't move.

The drugs will be wearing off soon.

Henry Wakefield pushed boat to go faster, speeding towards his childhood summer home, his happy place, the place of his Baptism of Blood.

Harper's Island. 

XxX

For one flickering moment, Dawn was awake. She had struggled and crawled her way through the black and into the light. She saw a slit of light and fought off the curling, squeezing thing that threatened to drag her under again. It was like a snake, coiling around her body, tempting her to surrender and find peace in the abyss. Dawn clawed it away, she strained toward the light.

Finally, _finally_ she opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt so heavy…so…

Her eyelids collapsed again, and she had to fight to reopen them. Her dark eyes slowly, painfully, roamed around her field of vision. She couldn't turn her head, it felt like it was chained in place. Her eyes found her wrists. She futilely tried to move them, but they barely raised a centimeter off the ground. She found a black zip tie bound her wrists tightly together. She feebly tried to pull against them, but she only succeeded in leaving red marks.

_Was I drugged? _She thought through the oppressing fog. _Why didn't he kill me?_

At last her eyes fell on her captor, her father, her Dad's murderer. She realized vaguely, in some detached, out-of-body way, that she was on a boat that Henry was driving.

Her eyelids dropped suddenly, as if they couldn't bear the weight of being open. Dawn tried to open them again, but it was like they were locked, the key thrown away deep into the recesses of her being. The fog clouded her mind. The snake slithered around her body, gripping her. Dawn struggled to remain awake, to fight the darkness.

As she faded away, one clear, lightning bolt of thought struck her.

She was going to Harper's Island.

XxX

Abby sat at the table and blew her bangs out of her eyes. She had called the house several times, but received no answer. Dawn's cell was nonresponsive too, even Jimmy didn't answer. Abby told herself not to worry. Her daughter was often forgetful and let her battery die, and she liked to go outside or into town. Jimmy lost signal all the time, so Abby consoled herself that everything was fine. Just then, as she resigned herself to stop calling, her editor walked in. She pasted on a smile and greeted him.

XxX

Henry docked the boat. There wasn't another craft in sight, nor was there another person. The only sound that greeted his ears was the waves and the birds screeching, tweeting, and cawing overhead. Henry glanced at the flock of different birds and smiled.

It felt good to be home.

Henry walked back to his daughter and picked her up in his arms. She wasn't heavy in the least, but of course he was used to bigger bodies and hauling them around. He began the long walk toward their house.

"Welcome to your new home Dawn," he said.

His daughter didn't, or rather couldn't, reply. Henry brushed the hair out of her face and smiled.

About ten minutes later, Henry was unlocking the front door. He kicked it open and immediately walked up the stairs. He turned down the hall and walked into a room. Dawn, still unconscious, he placed on the bed. Henry looked around the room and felt a stab of sadness.

This had been Abby's room.

He had put Abby in here years ago. He had wanted her to have the space as her own after he killed everyone. Now, with a few modifications, the room would belong to his daughter. Henry's eyes fell on her bound wrists and he contemplated untying them. He shook his head. What if she woke up while he was gone? The lock on the door would deter her sure, but it wasn't a guarantee. Henry decided to leave the zip tie alone. He glanced around the room a final time, kissed the crown of Dawn's head, then left, securely locking the door. He walked down the stairs with a bounce in his step. He was so happy to finally have his daughter. Nothing could ruin it for him.

XxX

Dawn opened her eyes and was met with an unfamiliar room. She shot up, then immediately regretted doing so. Her head spun and her stomach lurched. She dropped her head into her bound hands.

"Crap," she muttered, waiting for the feeling to subside.

After a minute, it did. The inbred stood and looked around the room.

_Why aren't I dead?_ She didn't mean for her thoughts to come off as ungrateful, but she didn't know why he'd let her live. The answer came to her and she found herself laughing without humor. "Right…I'm his kid," she said.

She was an inbred, born of rape. Her real father was a psychopath. Her parents had lied to her all her life. She was conceived on this godforsaken island.

It was a lot to take in.

Dawn walked around the room. She found pictures on the wall.

_Maybe I could use the glass_, she thought as she got closer to the frame on the wall. She lifted her bound hands to take it off the wall when she noticed something.

There was no reflection.

Dawn was confused; she reached her hand up and touched the picture, expecting to feel cool, smooth glass. Instead, she felt the paper from the picture.

"No glass," she whispered, dazed. _He's smarter than I gave him credit for._

She stared at the picture, which depicted a dock on the water, it even had a year on it. A new thought roused her into action as she pulled the picture off the wall.

"Please, please, please," she muttered.

She held the picture in her bound hands as her eyes stared at the blank space it had occupied. She had been hoping for a nail, instead, she was met with a commercial brand plastic hook held onto the wall by a type of foam adhesive strip.

Dawn stared at it blankly. One second ticked by…three…five…

Suddenly, she snapped into motion. The teen screamed in pure anger and anguish as she threw the picture in its frame at the opposite wall. She stormed over to the door and began to bash her hands against it.

"Let me out! Do you hear me? Get me the hell out!" she screamed. She hit the door harder. "Let me go! Monster! Let me out you murderer!" She went on like that for a few minutes, cursing at Henry, calling him every bad name she could think of, spewing every curse she knew. Her throat was raw by the time she stopped shouting. Her knuckles were cut and steadily bleeding. Her blood stained and dripped down the light colored wood that made up the door. Just like her blood, she fell down…down…until Dawn was on her knees, her bound hands still against the door.

"Please…let me out," she whispered hoarsely. "God…please…"

Her mind had registered something she refused to accept yet. Her intellect figured out that if Henry had been in the house, he would have come when she started banging and screaming. However, Dawn did not want to recognize the fact that she was alone. She was completely and utterly alone, even her kidnapper was gone. What's worse, Dawn didn't know what she was more afraid of: being alone in a strange place or being in a strange place with a murderer.

Dawn couldn't stop the tears that spilled from her eyes.

XxX

Henry was walking back to the house, bags in hand. Truth be told, it was only two bags; a backpack and the plastic bag containing what personal affects the hunter would allow his prey. As he passed the shoreline playground, he wondered if Dawn would like to go there. He knew she might consider herself too old, but it had swings. Who didn't love swings? Even Henry himself liked that certain playground equipment and he especially loved jumping off at the peak of the swing. He loved the rush as he plummeted back down to earth.

About five minutes later, he was at the house. The house he and his future complete family would live in, but for now, he was satisfied with his daughter as his only company. In time, Abby will join them, but not now, later, when the time was right. Maybe Abby would come on her own. Henry unlocked the door and was met by silence. He found that odd. Was Dawn sleeping? Or was she lying in wait, ready to attack?

"Dawn?" he called up the stairs.

He got no reply.

"Dawn, I'm coming up," he dropped the backpack on a chair at the kitchen island and began to ascend the stairs.

XxX

Dawn was lying on the cold, hardwood floor. She had given up trying to get out of the room. She was on the second floor, and jumping from the window would result in serious injury or death, and she wasn't that desperate, not yet. She had looked in the bathroom and found no means of a weapon. No razors, only hair removal cream (at least Henry…her father rather, had thought that one through, though the fact that she would need it frightened her to no end). She had found a wide assortment of toiletries, enough to last her a long time. She had opened the medicine cabinet and found no medicine she could overdose on (although, the teen had to admit again, she wasn't brave enough, or like she thought before with the window, desperate enough…yet). However, she had found a pair of tweezers…metal tweezers. She had worked at them for what seemed like forever, she had almost straightened them out completely, to form a line of metal about four inches long. It wasn't particularly sharp, because it was the kind of tweezers that someone used to pluck their eyebrows or remove a splinter. Dawn had taken the tweezers and slipped one end into the box on the zip tie, trying to undo the lock between the bar on the strip that was locked with the clasp in the small square. She tried and tried again, but her hands were shaking too much. Dawn finally decided on cutting through her plastic bonds with her makeshift blade. She kept going, even when her hand slipped and cut her wrists, she pushed on. By the end of it, her wrists were bleeding as well as her knuckles, and her restraints were hardly affected by her efforts. Knowing she couldn't do any more (and that it was too risky to try), she slipped her 'tool' under the mattress, but she had no energy to get on the mattress herself. So she lay on the ground, unmoving, barely breathing, almost curled into a ball, but not quite, as if it was too much effort to completely close herself off.

She heard the front door open and close, footsteps resounding through the space.

Henry was in the house.

"Dawn?" he called.

The addressed just shook her head, as if she were denying that she was the one he wanted.

"Dawn, I'm coming up," his voice was like nails on a chalkboard, making her shudder.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn't believe in prayer, but right now, she was pleading with any deity that was listening to save her, to help her, or to just end it quickly and kill her.

She would take anything at this point.

XxX

Henry waited outside the door for a few seconds. He heard nothing inside the room; no movement, no screaming, no crying…

No breathing.

He opened the door slowly, in case his daughter had any ideas about attacking him, but he needn't have worried.

Henry was shocked by what he saw, or rather, who he saw. Dawn was lying on the floor, a small puddle of blood surrounded her wrists. Henry was frozen for a few seconds.

"Dawn?" he whispered. "Dawn, what did you…"

She didn't move at all.

"Dawn!" Henry yelled, worried that she was dead, that she had found some way to do it even though he had altered the room to try and make that impossible.

He ran forward and slid toward his child on his knees. He picked her up in his arms.

"Dawn, ple—" but his plea became locked in his throat when dark eyes looked back at him.

His daughter was alive.

_Thank God_, he thought as he clutched her to his chest. _Thank you. Thank you._

"Dawn, what happened?" he asked the lifeless teen, pushing hair out of her eyes with a shaky hand.

"Sorry," she croaked faintly. "I'm sorry."

Henry shook his head and held her closer.

XxX

Dawn let her father hold her. She couldn't fight him, he was too strong. He wasn't hurting her, but she could feel his restrained strength through his embrace.

"Sorry," she whispered this time, her throat felt like sandpaper. "I'm sorry."

Yes, she was sorry. Sorry she was too scared to kill herself, sorry that she had given up, sorry that she was here, sorry that he had found her like this, and sorry that she was a freak, just like Henry. Who else but a freak could solider on without any grimace after they'd cut themselves? Who else but a freak would sit and plot murder while they waited?

Henry would. She did. The knowledge scared her even more.

Another reason she apologized is because she knew of Henry's anger. She didn't want to invoke it.

He held her a few seconds longer, then helped her stand. Dawn couldn't look at him as he examined her injured hands and wrists.

"What did you do Dawn?" Henry asked sadly.

Why did he keep saying her name? Couldn't he stop?

She realized that he wanted an answer. The teen swallowed. "I-I…"

How could she tell him the truth? How could she tell him that she wanted to leave? That she hated him and didn't want to be his prisoner?

"Forget it," Henry muttered. "We can talk after we cleaned you up and you eat something."

"I'm not hungry," she replied automatically.

Henry brushed her words away, "Come on."

They took a step forward, then stopped suddenly. "Wait," her biological father said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his switch blade.

Dawn's eyes widened and she tried to pull away from him. Her tears flowed quicker.

"Please," she begged.

XxX

Henry felt a stab of regret when his daughter pulled away from him, fear in her eyes.

"Please," she pleaded, tears streaming downs her cheeks.

Henry felt stupid for pulling the knife out so casually. He turned to face his daughter.

"Sweetie, I just want to cut the zip tie. I promise," he said calmly.

She didn't look like she believed him. That broke his heart.

She seemed to decide something, because she held out her shaking arms to him. Henry smiled and slowly, carefully cut at the plastic. When he had done so, he wished he hadn't. He saw the full extent of her injuries and they made his heart break even more.

"Come on Dawnie," he gently took her hand, avoiding the cuts on her knuckles. He led her down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, he motioned for her to sit at the island while he disappeared to get the supplies. When he returned, the murderer found his daughter looking around the room. Henry sat down and faced his daughter (he loved that title…daughter. He loved having someone to give it to, someone like him). He took the peroxide and began to wipe the blood away from the scrapes on her knuckles.

"What happened?" he asked again.

Dawn seemed to stop breathing. "I…I wanted…out," she whispered.

So she banged on the door until she bled, probably screamed herself hoarse too, which was why she couldn't really talk.

Henry finished with the cuts on her knuckles, then moved on to the wrists. "And these?"  
>"I tried to get out of the tie," she replied simply.<p>

"Were you scared?" Henry was curious.

She nodded.

"I'm sorry I scared you."

She only nodded again.

XxX

Minutes later, Henry was looking around in the cabinets for something to eat.

"Why aren't I dead?" Dawn had been working up the courage to ask her question as soon as he brought her downstairs.

Henry turned and looked at her, she thought she saw hurt flash in his dark eyes. "I love you. I would never hurt you."

Dawn was confused. This was coming from the man who had choked her out and drugged her.

"You don't know me."

"You're my daughter," he returned easily. The ball was in her court now.

"No, I'm not," Dawn bit out, clenching her fists and staring down at her bandaged knuckles and wrists.

"You are Dawn. I've seen that look in your eyes, back at the house, when you came at me with the knife. We're the same."

"I am not like you!" she shouted, her voice cracking slightly from the overuse earlier.

Henry became tense. "Dawn—"

"Shut up! Stop saying my name!" She covered her ears.

Henry strode over to his daughter and grasped her arms, pulling them down. "Don't act like a child."

Dawn yanked herself away from her father, "Shut up! You don't know me! You're not my Dad! Jimmy Mance is my Dad! He raised me! He loves me! You're just a monster!" Dawn knew she would pay for those words, but she didn't care at the moment. She wanted to let this beast know where he stood with her. She wanted to hurt him. He would never be someone she cared about, never be family. She wanted to convey her hatred to him.

Anger flashed across Henry's face.

XxX

Henry didn't understand. How could everything go from OK to bad in mere minutes? How could he go from fixing his daughter to her yelling at him, saying terrible things to him, things that made him angry, uncontrollably angry.

He brought the back of his hand across her cheek.

_Slap!_

Dawn stumbled away from him, clutching her now throbbing and stinging cheek. She looked at him with tears in her eyes again. Henry felt regret and anguish stab his heart, his soul, once again. He had hurt his daughter.

"Dawn…I…I shouldn't have done that," he muttered.

She looked at him, her body, her eyes screaming panic and fear.

"Dawnie," his voice was a plea.

She didn't give him a chance to say anything else. Her eyes shone with tears that were about to fall as she streaked past him. By the time Henry processed what Dawn was going to do, she was bounding up the stairs. He ran after her.

"Dawn wait!" he tried to get her to stop, to listen to him, but she ignored him.

With her head start, she was able to get into her room and slam the door.

Henry stopped at the small obstacle. He was sure he could get in if he wanted to, but he didn't want to scare her any more than he already had. He put his hand against the door.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I was angry," he admitted. "I got mad too fast. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

Heavy breathing from the other side of the wooden door was his only response.

"Come out when you're ready. I'll be waiting."

He didn't know if he would regret those words later.

XxX

Dawn braced herself against the door as she listened to Henry's retreating footsteps. After she was sure he was gone, she slid onto the ground again. Her cheek hurt and she guessed there would be bruising. She closed her eyes and decided something. She would not come out. She would not leave this room. Her father would have to drag her out. She promised herself she wouldn't leave, not for anything. She resolved to starve before she left.

She couldn't get his expression out of her mind.

He looked like he was going to kill her. Is that what his victims had seen, right before he killed them? Was that what her Dad saw? But then, after the anger…there was…regret, sadness, shock. Maybe he didn't mean to hurt her. He sounded like he was the one in pain instead of her. Henry was crazy, of that she was sure but…if he was crazy, what did that make her, his inbred spawn? One thing was for sure, she didn't want to make him angry again anytime soon.

The darkness inside her being crept over her, and she tried to fight it again, but she'd been running on adrenaline. Her body was crashing. This time, she stumbled to the bed before she was forced to surrender to the dark.

XxX

As Dawn was fighting against her our encroaching darkness, someone else was fighting against his own. His eyes fluttered open, seeing only red. A groan passed his lips as he put his hands down, dragging himself up.

"Dawn?" he whispered hoarsely, remembering the panicked scream that had pierced through his consciousness.

Red filled his vision. It was blood. His blood. He groaned as he felt the cut on his head.

"Henry!" the name left his lips before he even realized he was saying it.

Just as quickly, a second name escaped his throat, this time, in a desperate, almost shrill tone. "DAWN!"

Jimmy Mance stood on his feet, he stumbled, but grasped the wall for support. "DAWN!" he roared.

He staggered around the rooms, dragged himself up the stairs, but his daughter was nowhere in sight. Neither was his enemy.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled as he kicked Dawn's bed. He had found signs of a struggle, but he didn't want to believe what his mind was telling him.

Jimmy sank to his knees and stifled a sob. Tears fell down his face.

"He took her," he looked around the room as one, shoulder wracking sob escaped. "Oh God…he took her."

_**Hey guys! Thanks for reading this far. I still need a name, so please leave ideas in the comments! Please comment! It drives me to write more!**_


	11. Badump

Ba-dump

Dawn was lying on the mattress. Her eyes were open but unseeing.

Four days.

She had been in her room four days without coming out. She drank from the sink only when necessary. Hunger was her constant companion; it gnawed at her insides, clawed at her stomach. It was entirely her doing that she didn't eat. Henry tried, he left food outside the door, she just never got it. He came every day, sometimes only three times in accordance with the traditional meal times, but sometimes he would come more, leaving her presents.

She only wanted one thing from him. Freedom.

She knew her iPod was out there, so was a book. She forgot what book it was, even though her father had told her. Funny, her memory was fuzzy. Maybe it was the lack of nourishment.

It wasn't Henry's fault. He tried.

He tried to bribe her into coming out, saying he'd give her anything she wanted, anything she needed. He begged her to come out, to eat something, _anything_. She heard him every day. She heard his steps. She heard him pick up or put down the tray of food. She heard everything clink together. She heard him sigh. She heard everything.

And always, _always_, there was a beat. The beat of a drum, the thrum of her heart, the pounding of her pulse.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

All day, every day for the past four days, her pulse banged inside her head.

Dawn dragged herself up and went to her corner. She liked that corner. It was a good view of the scene outside the window, and she felt safer than she did on the bed. Henry came in sometimes, when he thought she was asleep. He came in, sat down next to her and stroked her hair. Dawn would suppress a shudder as he did so. The one time she couldn't, he thought she was cold. Being the good father he pretended to be, he pulled the blanket up over her. Sometimes, if her mind wasn't too fuzzy, if it was sharp, then she could pretend it was her Mom or Dad that was stroking her hair, not Henry. She could almost enjoy the feeling.

But that was only sometimes.

She plopped down into her corner. She liked the feel of the walls at her sides. It felt like she had some support, like arms were gently holding her. It sounded pathetic, considering she was pushing away the only person who could give her any real human interaction and comparing the cool, slightly pressured 'embrace' of the walls to affection. It was alright though, because she didn't care. She just wanted out. She wanted to be free like the birds she heard.

Unconsciously, she began to rock. Back and forth, back and forth. Her stomach released a hollow growl, so she drew her knees in tighter, clenched her body as tight as she could. All the while her pulse pounded in her head, through her body.

_Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. _

XxX

Henry paced the dining room. He was worried sick. _Was this how parents always felt?_ Dawn hadn't eaten anything. He knew she was drinking water, but she was letting herself starve. _Was it teenage rebellion that fueled her 'hunger strike' or fear? _He'd gone in and checked on her while she slept, but it wasn't enough to satisfy that little voice in his mind. _How long could she last without food?_ He finally decided that enough was enough. He was going to go up there and get Dawn to eat _something_. He didn't care what it was, as long as it was some kind of food. He walked up the stairs, catching sight of the tray still full of food. Beside it, were her personal affects. He had left the book she'd bought and her iPod out in the hallway, but by the dust on them, he could tell she hadn't touched any of it. _She must hate him if she won't even come out for her things, or was it fear again?_ He'd left everything else in Arizona; her keys and phone, he tossed the keys randomly in the town as he drove away and he smashed the phone and ditched it in the woods as he passed them. Anything to throw them off their trail.

Henry knocked on the door.

"Dawnie, I'm coming in," he warned, before he opened the bedroom door.

She wasn't on the bed this time; instead, she was in the corner, rocking back and forth. Henry strode over to his daughter and knelt next to her.

"Dawn sweetie, you need to eat," he put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch. A painful remainder of his rash action four days ago lay on her brutally bruised cheek. The blues and purples blended together, and that sickly yellow-green was just starting to show through. She looked so young and fragile…

"Please sweetie, you don't look good. You need to eat something."

Dawn just shook her head, she wouldn't look at him.

Henry stifled a sigh. He sat down and pulled her into his lap.

"I'm sorry Dawn. I'm so, so sorry," he muttered, kissing the top of her head. "Please, come downstairs and eat something, then you can come back here. You don't have to stay, but please eat."

It was a long minute before she nodded. Henry felt the tension leave his body.

XxX

She would do anything he wanted, as long as he stopped touching her.

He finally came inside the room, her personal prison, and found her at her worst. He whispered things, kissed her head, muttered on and on about food, but all she could register was the fact that he was holding her. She didn't want him to touch her, not again. He would hurt her again, maybe not on purpose, but he would.

Finally, to shut him up, she nodded. Her resolve snapped in two all because he touched her.

Henry placed her back on the floor, then stood up himself. He held his hand out to her. Shaking, Dawn placed her much smaller hand in his. She expected his grip to be harsh, but he gently grasped hers. She took a step with him, but the malnourished teen stumbled. She hadn't used her legs much in four days.

"Are you alright?" Henry asked, worry on his face, in his voice.

Dawn opened her mouth to say she was fine, but dizziness suddenly slammed through her body. She shook her head. "I-I need…help," she mumbled.

Henry nodded seriously, but she could tell he was secretly happy that she asked. He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her walked. As they left the room, Dawn's dark eyes caught sight of her book and iPod. She knew he had said something about entertainment, but his words had glided over her in her self-induced haze. Henry and she walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. She sat at the island again and put her head on the counter.

"I can't give you anything heavy," he began as he looked through the cabinets. "Since you haven't eaten anything. So…" Henry trailed off as his eyes scrutinized the contents of the cabinet.

"Anything you think's fine," Dawn said, her voice barely counting as a normal speaking volume.

These were the first words Henry had heard since she'd come down, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

She saw him reach out and grab something. When he turned she saw it was a can.

"How about soup?"

Dawn nodded, not lifting her head.

Henry set about making it, and the father-daughter pair sat in silence. When he was done some minutes later, he emptied the contents into two bowels.

"I hope you don't mind that I have some, if you can eat this fine, then I'll make you something else."

Dawn lifted her head and eyed the soup. She wondered vaguely if he had drugged it. She didn't like the feeling before, she didn't want to experience it again.

XxX

Henry placed the bowl in front of his daughter. He sat across from her and watched her expression. However slight it was, emotion was there. Fear, skepticism, wariness. That was why he got a bowl for himself. He figured she wouldn't trust anything he gave her. _Was that another reason she didn't eat?_ He wanted to gain her trust and was willing to do whatever it took to do so. He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the soup. It was plain chicken noodle, nothing fancy. Henry watched the look on Dawn's face as he began to eat. After about thirty seconds of him doing so without coming to harm, she did the same.

They ate in silence. It bothered the father, but not too much. He was simply happy that Dawn had come down. After he had finished, Henry ventured a question.

"How do the clothes fit?" he asked.

He had filled the drawers with a variety of clothes; some were Abby's old ones, some were left at the Candlewick, and some were his old shirts.

"Is it all OK?"

Dawn glanced down at her attire then, as if noticing it for the first time. Henry looked too. She was wearing a tank top that had belonged to Abby and a pair of Trish's jeans. The tank was loose, as were the jeans, but the jeans fit better.

"Once you get settled, I can get ones that actually fit."

Dawn kept looking down, in fact, she stared into her lap as she said, very quietly, "I need a belt."

"I'll try to find one for you, but if I can't you can have one of mine."

Dawn glanced up, "Thanks."

Henry's grin broadened.

XxX

After the talk about the clothes, Dawn set her mind on finishing her food.

"I never got you a drink," Henry said suddenly, sounding liked a forgetful parent. How easily he can slip on the guise. But it was harder for Dawn. Her role was different. She had to feign ignorance, pretend he was her Dad, pretend he wasn't a murderer. She had to lie.

She couldn't.

Her Dad was Jimmy Mance. Her Mom was Abby Mance. She was Dawn Mance, not Dawn Dunn, and certainly not Dawn Wakefield.

She clenched her fists, clutching the fabric of her jeans. A passing thought struck her suddenly as Henry poured her juice.

She wondered who the jeans belonged to. Hell, who any of the clothes belonged to.

To stop herself from thinking about it further, she took a gulp of the drink without waiting for Henry to do so.

"Are you still hungry?" Henry asked. "I could make you toast, nothing too heavy remember?"

She wanted him to stop talking, so she nodded. Henry smiled and went to make it.

"S-So," she began. She didn't want to talk, but she needed confirmation. "Where are we?"

"Harper's Island," her father answered without turning around.

She knew it. Dawn gulped but trudged on, "Wh-Where's everyone?"

"Gone." He still wouldn't turn around.

Dawn was afraid of that. Her parents told her that everyone had left the island after the second massacre, but she still had some semblance of hope, that is, before her bio dad crushed it.

Damn, could she ever think of him like that, being her true father, making up half her genes?

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. _

There it was again. The war drums, her pulse, that pounding.

XxX

Henry stared at the toaster, waiting for the bread to reappear. He knew that Dawn was scared just from the tone of her voice. He didn't want her to be scared, but he wouldn't lie to her either.

The toast popped, bring the father out of his reverie. He took the toast and slathered butter on it, then pushed the plate in front of his daughter. Dawn stared at it for a few moments before she picked it up and took a small bite. Henry watched and waited until she finished the whole thing.

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?" he asked.

"OK," Dawn conceded.

Henry put the plate in the sink, then turned to face Dawn. He held out his hand. Without much hesitation, Dawn took it. He held her hand carefully, since it was still injured.

"When we get to my bathroom, we'll take care of your hands. Have you been keeping them clean?" He knew the answer, he had heard the shower running before. He simply wanted Dawn to talk more.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, then she seemed to think better of it. "I mean, yes."

Henry was happy to hear her voice, but the tone, the tone of fear hurt him. He pulled her along, telling her the rooms as they went.

"This is the dining room," he began with the open space that consisted of the kitchen and eating area. He eyed the telescope by the shelf and remembered how Abby had used it to smash the window. He glanced at his daughter from the corner of his eye, waiting to see if she would do something.

XxX

Dawn looked around the dining room. She knew the telescope was how her Mom had escaped before, but she also knew that Henry had caught up with her.

But, he only did so because she had gotten distracted by Jimmy. If Dawn tried…

Her eyes found her father's, his dark orbs boring into her own. She knew he was waiting. She couldn't do anything, not yet.

"Nice," she said instead.

Henry immediately brightened. He took her hand and led her down the hallway. At every room, she pretended to be impressed by the décor, or the furniture. In reality, she was looking at all the exits or things she could use to help her exit. She hoped Henry didn't notice.

"Here's my room," he said as they stood in the doorway. Dawn glanced over her shoulder and found her bedroom close to his. Too close in her opinion.

"If you ever need anything, just get me."

Dawn stared at her shoes, which she suddenly deemed interesting.

"Well, I guess we should clean your hands now. Come on," he took her shoulder and guided her into the room. He disappeared into the small, half-bath attached to his room. After about a minute of searching, he reemerged with a tube of cut ointment and Band-Aids. Henry sat next to her on the bed and went about fixing her hands.

"Can I see outside?" Dawn asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

Henry looked up as he shook his head, "No." He said with finality.

Her throat tightened, "Why?"

"I can't trust you yet Dawnie. I'm sorry."

"Please," she begged. "I don't wanna be inside anymore. Please."

Henry sighed; he capped the tube and looked Dawn in the eyes. "No."

Dawn stared back into those eyes. They reminded her so much of her mother's. It unnerved her.

"Let's go Dawn," Henry took her by the arm and began to pull her up.

As she stood, the inbred yanked out of his grip and stepped away from him. "I hate you," she murmured.

"What?" Henry hadn't heard her. "Speak louder Dawn."

She'd give him louder.

"I. Hate. You!" she enunciated.

Henry's face went blank, but his eyes held fire. "Don't say things you don't mean Dawn."

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

Her pulse, the call to war, urged her on.

"I do mean it," she spat. "I meant everything I said before. You'll _never_ be my Dad. I hate you. You're a murderer."

"I've changed Dawn," Henry tried to keep his head. "I don't kill anymore."

"Then why did I come home to find my Dad in a puddle of blood? Why do I have this?" she pointed to the large bruise on her cheek.

Henry visibly flinched, "I'm sorry for that."

"You're sorrys mean nothing to me Henry!" with that, the teenager turned on her heel and marched out the door, down the hall, and straight into her room.

XxX

Henry stood, stunned, by his bed. He was hurt by what Dawn had said, hurt more than he could have thought possible. He sat on the bed again, ran his hands through his hair, rested his elbows on his knees, bent forward.

She was right of course, he was a killer.

Would she ever see past that?

"She has to," he whispered aloud.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

His blood thrummed in his ears.

"She has to."

She had called him Henry. Not Dad. Henry. She reminded him so much of Abby he couldn't stand it sometimes.

He was Dad, not Henry. Only Abby could call him that, not their daughter.

_Abby…_

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

XxX

Jimmy was fidgety, no, it was more than that, he was raging. Anger pumped through his veins, making his leg jump and his heart go.

_Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump._

"Why am I still here?" he snapped at the detectives in front of him. "Where's Abby?"

"Mrs. Mance is being held in another room, being questioned just as you are," the blond, young man said.

"Why are we being questioned? I told you who took her!" Jimmy slammed his fist on the table. His head throbbed; he could feel the blood pounding against his injury. They had given him painkillers, the paramedics that is, after they patched him up. The fisherman did not understand why they were wasting precious time.

The other cop, older than his young partner, flipped open a file, "James Mance," he read aloud.

"Jimmy," the worried father corrected automatically.

"So Jimmy," the older detective's tone had taken on one of false friendliness. "According to you, Henry Dunn broke into your house, tried and failed to kill you, then kidnapped your daughter?"

"She's…" Jimmy was tired of rehashing his story. "Dawn is not my daughter biologically."

"Right. So, Jimmy…we have a problem."

"Yeah, you're wasting time on me when you should be looking for Dawn," he snapped.

"We have our associates searching your home," the young one said.

"But the problem is," his elder clasped his hands together and leaned forward, "Henry Dunn is dead."

"No, he isn't."

"We have proof, blood samples in the church that burned."

Jimmy knew they would someday regret not telling the police that Abby had killed Henry, looking back, it was a stupid thing to do. "He planted that, why did the police never tell us they lost his body?"

"It burned in the church."

Jimmy stood and slammed his fists down on the table, "ARE YOU LISTENING?" he roared. "YOU'RE WASTING YOUR TIME ON STUPID QUESTIONS WHEN HE COULD BE DOING ANYTHING TO MY DAUGHTER!"

The young blond stepped toward him, placing his hand on Jimmy's shaking shoulder. "Relax Mr. Mance."

Jimmy plopped into the chair and glared at the elder detective. He remembered their names now. The young one was Detective Neil Harp, while the older one was Sal Clark.

XxX

"Please, find my daughter," Abby was trying to stop crying.

The detective pushed the box of tissues closer to her. "Mrs. Mance, you say Henry Dunn took her."

"He did! He attacked Jimmy!"  
>The Detective glanced at his partner, "Right."<p>

"Please find her, she has asthma, and her inhaler…" Abby let out a sob. "She doesn't have her inhaler!"

"Abigail," the sitting detective began. "We don't think Henry Dunn kidnapped your daughter."

"Abby," she corrected as an afterthought, then his words sank in. "Then…who did?"

XxX

"You think I took Dawn?" Jimmy whispered, stunned.

"You and your wife argue quite a lot don't you?" Clark asked.

"So?"

"Have you ever threatened her?"

Jimmy slammed the table again, "THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

"SIT down Jimmy," Harp ordered.

Jimmy remained standing. "How could I?" he whispered. "I love my wife and daughter."

"You have a record," Clark reminded.

"You said Mr. Dunn was the real father," Harp pressed. "Maybe you got angry one day? Did you and Dawn argue? You were supposed to be at work when the kidnapping happened."  
>"I forgot my tools," the fisherman collapsed into the seat again. It was a lame excuse, even to his own ears. It was the truth though. It was!<p>

"Now that's a weak alibi," Clark said in a patronizing tone.

Jimmy dropped his head into his hands. He couldn't believe this. This is why Henry left him alive, to throw them off the trail. Henry was smarter than Jimmy had given him credit for.

"So you're saying I came home, took my daughter away to some unknown location, injured myself to make it look like an attack, and then allowed several hours to lapse so I could bleed enough to make it look convincing before I called the cops?"

The two men before him were stern in their gazes.

"We'd like to run a paternity test," Clark finally said. "Then we'll go from there."

Jimmy shook his head, blinking back tears. His heart _ba-dump_'d over and over in his chest.

This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

**A/N Thanks for reading this far! Please comment. Oh and the three titles I'm thinking of are: **_**His Shadow**_**, meaning Henry's constant presence in their lives, and **_**Mother's Dreams, Father's Eyes, **_**since Dawn looks like Henry, **_**Disarm With a Smile**_**, because the Smashing Pumpkins song is perfect for Henry .**__**I like these three best because they do not give anything away in the plot, as opposed to Father-daughter related titles. **


	12. Flutter

Flutter

"When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman- he looks tough and I don't- but I guess my own looks aren't so bad," Dawn recited the opening lines of _The Outsiders._

Since the day she had told Henry (she refused to call him anything but) that she hated him, the inbred had not come out of her room. Oh, she took the meals he gave her, even caved a little bit and retrieved her iPod and her book, but she took nothing else (well, except the iPod charger). Henry had left books outside for her, but Dawn never touched them. She refused to take anything from him.

Therefore, she had read the book over and over for the past week, memorizing at least the first chapter in the process, including some other parts scattered in the book.

"I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes. I wish they were more gray, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content with what I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and long at the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair."

Dawn knew she sounded crazy, talking out loud to herself, but she needed something to do. She flipped through the pages again and again, the fluttering sound the background noise to her words.

_Flutter, flutter, flutter._ "I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyway, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I'm different that way."

She glanced at the clock beside her, in red numbers, it proclaimed it to be 10:30. Any second now Henry was going to be outside her door with breakfast.

"Dawn," a voice cut through her thoughts.

_Speak of the devil…_

"I made you scrambled eggs today, and some bacon. Not too much though, because it's so unhealthy," Henry sounded sad, but he seemed to be trying to hide it. "I gave you some milk too," he added.

She hated eggs, but for some reason, Henry made them tasty. She had an irrational hatred of him for this. She hated that he could cook while her Dad was prone to burning food. She hated that she had to eat the food.

She just plain hated him.

XxX

Henry waited outside the door. He listened to the pages of the same book she had been reading for the past week _flutter_ as he listened to her quote the book.

"I mean, my second-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture, so I'm not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do. For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it," she said.

Truth be told, Henry was impressed that she could memorize all that so easily. Sometimes he would sit outside her door, or leave his bedroom door open so he could hear her. Sometimes his daughter would sing, other times she would quote _The Outsiders_. Henry put the tray of food down and glanced at the small pile of books that lay beside the door. He sighed and rubbed his temples. He wished she would give in already. He wanted to start building their relationship. He knew he had missed vital years of her life, but he wanted to make up for that. Wasn't that enough? Sure he had hit Dawn, but the father regretted it with every part of him, just like he did when he hit Abby all those years ago.

Henry sat on the floor and waited. He knew she would wait until he left to come out and eat, but he missed hearing his daughter's voice. The bio dad would take whatever he could get.

_Flutter, flutter, flutter, flutter._

She kept flipping the pages of the book. Henry waited minutes before he decided to leave her be. He wouldn't give up though, he would be back later.

XxX

After Henry left, the teen opened the door. She took the tray into her room and began to eat. She thought as she chewed.

What could she do to escape?

One thing was certain, if she never left her freakin' room, she would never leave at all.

But how could she? As twisted as it sounded, she felt almost…safe in 'her' room. Sure it was basically an altered version of a padded room, but here he left her alone. Henry never crossed over the threshold of the door. He always stayed right outside. She felt oddly grateful, since he was (in a twisted way) respecting her space. Henry had said before that he would wait until she was ready to come out, of course, that was after he slapped her. Since then, he had taken her out. He had fed her. He had given her clothes to wear.

Dawn pushed the tray away and buried her face in her arms.

She felt so…conflicted about Henry.

She was afraid of him. _Who wouldn't be? _She was confused by his words and actions. _Was he bipolar?_ She wanted to get away. _He was going to snap eventually right? _She wanted to die. _Wasn't that how all this ended? _She didn't want to be his inbred daughter. _She didn't have a choice did she? _Henry wanted to play Daddy. _Why now? _He wanted them to be family. _Would one wrong move send him over the edge?_ She wanted to kill him. _Who wouldn't? _She had the tools, literally and figuratively. _But wouldn't that just be proving that she was like Henry: a natural killer?_ The stretched out piece of metal still lay under her mattress. _All she had to do was use it, maybe a fork as well?_

Dawn decided something.

She climbed off her bed, took her tray in her hands, and, for the first time in seven days, left her room.

XxX

Henry was washing dishes when he heard it.

Dawn's door opened.

He tried to remain calm as he heard her footsteps above. He heard her coming down the stairs. He heard her carrying the tray. He heard the plates and silverware clink together. He had to grip the counter to keep himself from shaking with nerves.

He had killed people without blinking, yet he was quaking in his boots at the prospect of facing his teenage daughter.

How his father would have laughed.

He remained gripping the counter until he saw Dawn's figure in the archway of the kitchen. She stood there, as if waiting to be invited in.

"Hey Dawn," was his voice as strained as it sounded to his own ears?

"Hi," one word, two letters, but it made Henry attempt to relax.

"You can put that on the island, I'll get it in a bit," he said.

Dawn did as he said. She sat on a chair. The teen didn't say anything, just sat.

"How was everything?" he asked.

"Fine," Dawn suddenly stood and wandered around the kitchen.

Henry wished he could get her to say more than one word sentences. He watched through the corner of his eye as she ambled around the room.

What was she doing?

"How was it?" he asked, nodding toward the empty tray.

As Dawn stood on her tip toes to peer out the window, she let slip a begrudging compliment, "Good."

Henry smiled, but turned away and continued to wash the dishes.

Dawn went on with her trail, her fingers skimming over the countertop.

"I've heard you reading that book," he trudged on, wanting to have an actual, normal conversation. "What's it called?"

"_The Outsiders_."

OK. Two words. That was a start.

"Do you memorize things easily?" he asked.

She only nodded.

He really wanted to get passed these barriers she put up. He already had to deal with her fear, now selective silence was another obstacle he had to climb over.

He watched her hands continue to skim lightly over the counter. He wondered if that was a nervous habit of hers, moving her hands. The father took his eyes off of her for a few seconds as he bent down to open a drawer. He retrieved a towel, then straightened. Dawn was in the same exact position she was seconds ago.

Her eyes met his.

They stared at each other. Henry saw his own eyes reflected back at him. He saw the fear, the uncertainty, the pain, the confusion, behind her dark eyes. He saw the light sheen of unshed tears, making her eyes reflect almost like black ice. In those eyes, he saw himself, at her age, afraid of what he was or what he was becoming.

Dawn blinked.

All at once, the spell was broken, reality crashed down on them.

Dawn turned away from her father and retreated a few steps backwards. She tugged on the ends of her long sleeves. Henry thought he saw her shaking. He turned slightly and looked at the bruise on her cheek. Where it was once an ugly pallet of blues and purples was now faded into a sickly, yellow, jaundice color. Henry felt the familiar pain go through his heart when he saw it.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again.

Dawn flinched, as if he had hit her.

He sighed and turned back to the dishes.

XxX

Dawn glanced over her shoulder at Henry's back. She felt the weight of the knife she had slipped up her sleeve. It stayed there, weighing on her as heavily as the idea behind its theft. _Could she do it?_ Dawn looked over her shoulder again. Her eyes drilled holes into his back. _Surely he could feel it?_ She let the knife slide down her arm and fall into her grasp. She held it there, in her pale palm, staring at it.

It was a steak knife. Henry had been washing it. When he reached for a towel, she had snagged it. Now, it was just one of her few weapons that she held in her 'arsenal'. The stretched out piece of metal lay in her back pocket. It had felt so cold when she touched it that she thought it had burned her at first. Now it lay dormant, but it burned brighter than the sun in her mind. She knew that if it came down to it, she would have to attack with that. More than likely she'd have to aim for the eyes.

Dawn shuddered at the thought.

The fork now, was another story. It too was hidden up the opposite sleeve as the knife. _All I need is a spoon to complete the dinner set_, she thought cynically. Although, she mused, a spoon handle would do in a pinch. The metal pricked her skin and brought her out of her thoughts. She glanced at her sleeve, the fork's 'sheath'. She didn't want to do this, but she had to.

No. That was a lie.

She _did _want to do it. She wanted to kill Henry, had always wanted to kill Henry. She just didn't _want_ to want to kill him. She wanted to be normal. Not a killer. Not an inbred. Not the daughter of a serial killer. She wanted to be Dawn. Just Dawn. She wanted to live a normal life and have kids of her own.

Henry took that away from her.

Killing him wouldn't be a crime, or a sin. It would be self-defense. Everyone would agree with her. No one would condemn her. She would be heralded a hero, a tragic hero who did what she had to do.

With new resolve, Dawn turned on her heels to face the back of her father, Henry Wakefield. She took two, silent steps before his voice interrupted her concentration.

"I'm glad you left your room Dawn."

_Me too. _She thought as she took another step.

"I know you're scared…but I'd like to get to know you better. I know you said I don't know anything about you, but…" he trailed off. "I'm trying. I know you're afraid of your…impulses too."

Dawn gasped.

Henry shook his head. "It's OK. I had them when I was your age, and I'll help you. You don't have to kill if you don't want to, there are other ways."

Dawn wanted to speak. She wanted to ask about the 'other ways'. Instead, she swallowed her voice and took another step. Outside, the leaves fluttered in the trees. They seemed so loud compared to the relative silence in the kitchen.

_Flutter. Flutter._

The noise seemed to announce her every breath, her every step. It sounded as if the island were warning Henry.

_Flutter. Flutter. Flutter._

_Shut up_, Dawn thought. _Shut up, shut up, SHUT. UP! _

"Whatever you want, I can get it. You just need to ask."

"Freedom," the word escaped in a shaky whisper. "I want freedom."

Her hand shook as she raised the knife above her head.

Henry sighed, "Dawn, I know I haven't earned your trust yet, and you haven't earned mine."

She shook her head, but he couldn't see because he still wasn't looking at her. He just dried his hands then pulled down his sleeves. _Guess the dishes are done_, she thought bitterly. How could he act so calm when she was about to rob him of his life, just as he had robbed others of theirs?

Dawn took another step forward.

"Sweetie," Henry said in a low, gentle voice. "If you're going to do it, it's better to get it over with."

The would-be murderer froze.

XxX

It broke his heart. It really did.

He saw Dawn's reflection in the window. His daughter held a knife he hadn't realized she'd taken above her head, ready to stab him. If she was smart, and he took it for granted that she was, she would aim for the base of his skull/the back of his neck. Henry found himself torn between pride and sadness. He was proud that Dawn was finally embracing her true nature, but he was sad it had to reveal itself as she went to harm him.

He said what he said to see what his daughter would do. He could see the knife shaking in her tight grip as he glanced to the side, at their reflections. He felt calm. The killer knew that he would not die by his daughter's hand. No, she wasn't strong enough, not yet. He hoped he would prove to her that she meant everything to him. He hoped he would not turn into his father, too blinded by his own ambition to let Dawn attain what she truly wanted.

He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to make this harder for her.

It seemed like years had passed before Dawn gave her reply.

"I-I can't," she stuttered.

The knife clattered to the floor, only then did Henry turn around.

Dawn covered her face with her hands. She took shuddering breaths and seemed to be crying.

"Dawn," his heart was breaking all over again.

"I c-c-can't do it!" she seemed to be yelling at herself.

Henry strode forward and took his daughter into his arms.

"It's OK Dawnie," he tried to console. "The first time's the hardest. But I'll help you."

She tried to get out of his grip, but he held her too close and too tight. He felt her shifting.

"Dawn, you can't kill me because we have a connection. We're family," he continued on. It was the same as the day of the massacre. He ran into his real Dad, and they immediately felt something between them. That was why John had let him live.

XxX

Dawn couldn't kill him. She resisted that urge. She didn't want to, couldn't, become a monster like him. She couldn't, wouldn't. He kept talking, but all she focused on was working the fork down her sleeve.

So she couldn't kill him. She could still hurt him.

He kissed the crown of her head, and that's when she snapped.

Her left hand, her weaker hand, lunged forward and stabbed his stomach. Henry jerked away but didn't yell. Dawn shoved him away and grabbed a metal pot from the counter where Henry had been drying it. (Silly Henry, didn't he know not to leave the handle of a pot or pan out? A child could just reach up and pull it down on themselves. The handle was supposed to be turned in) She ran toward the door and smashed the glass. Dawn wasn't as cautious as her mother had been all those years ago; she tore through the jagged opened with reckless abandon. She didn't even glance over her shoulder. Not once.

She didn't want to see.

She didn't want to see Henry's face.

His anger.

His pain.

His sadness.

She didn't want to see the fork.

The blood flowing around it.

The wound inflicted by it.

How deep it went into his flesh.

None of it.

She didn't want to see anything besides the path she had created in her mind.

She ran straight ahead, not to the side. She hopped over the railing of the porch and landed on the uneven ground with a thud. She sprinted forward, trying to clear her mind, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to have an asthma attack.

XxX

Déjà vu struck Henry as he felt something pierce his stomach. He pulled away and glanced down, finding the penetrating object to be a metal fork, held in the hand of his daughter. It was just like the boarding knife with Abby. Before he could look at her as he had done Abby, their daughter stood and grabbed something from the counter. Only when she swung it did he realize it was the pot he'd been washing.

_Resourceful_, he thought as he watched her run out.

Henry stood and pulled the fork from his new wound. It had gone a few inches in, the prongs almost completely in his flesh. He felt impressed by her strength, sad and hurt at her action, and resigned to the fact that now, he would have to chase her, and once he caught her…

Well, she would have to be punished, as all disobedient children do.

Henry followed after her.

XxX

Dawn was stumbling, tripping, and falling as she ran through the woods. The uneven terrain made her escape all the harder. She kept getting confused, not knowing which direction to go. She could hear Henry crashing through the brush behind her.

It only made her push harder.

The only sounds that invaded her ears were the fluttering of the leaves in the branches, her heavy breathing, and Henry.

Dawn breathed deeply, despite her running. She could not have an asthma attack while running away from her father. Then he would catch her.

She stopped suddenly, coming to a sudden edge and steep drop. Her eyes briefly scanned over the rocky shoreline below.

_This is where it happened_, Dawn thought. _Where Henry should have died. Where Mom stabbed him. _

She could almost see it_. Her mother facing her father, tears in her eyes as she screamed her refusal. Her Dad tackling Henry onto the beach. Finally, her Mom taking the boarding knife Henry had just thrown away, and plunging it through his abdomen._

"Dawn! Stop! No one's on the island!" Henry's voice brought her out of her mind.

She turned and darted to the side. There was no time to think about the past. There was only now.

Now she had to get away.

Now she had to escape.

Now she had to get off the island.

Now she had to run away from Henry.

XxX

Henry only saw the brush flutter behind what he assumed was his daughter's path. He ran harder and crashed through the greenery. He saw a flash of dark hair disappear around a sharp turn. He slipped on some loose stones but caught his footing again.

He would not lose her.

He would not lose someone else he loved.

Not again.

Not. Again.

XxX

Dawn was not only running out of trail, but out of ideas and energy as well. She wished she could stop, could sit and ensure that she would not have an asthma attack. She stopped, doubled over. She couldn't go on any more. She shook the truth away and stared up into the sky.

"Please," she whispered to any available deity. "Help me."

The fluttering of the leaves was her only response.

She heard another sound, unnatural and more violent than the fluttering overhead.

Henry. Chasing after her. Coming after her. Coming to get her.

Dawn swore under her breath and searched the area frantically for a hiding place.

She whirled to the side and saw one of the many trees surrounding her. Her eyes traveled up the trunk, about twenty-five feet up, at its branches.

Dawn smiled.

It was a fragile smile, full of hope.

XxX

Henry thought her had her, he really did. He hadn't heard any more movement, no crashing through the bushes or anything close to the sound of flight. He thought she had stopped, had finally come to her senses. He felt relief, because now, she wouldn't have to be punished so severely. Now, because she stopped, because she gave herself over, he could simply scold her and take her home.

All blissful thoughts stopped when he realized that she was not where he had anticipated.

There was nothing but air.

He turned to the side, squinting into the brush. _Was she hiding? _Henry began to search the ground, looking for any sign of his daughter.

If she was hiding, he would certainly find her.

XxX

Dawn shivered in her new hiding place. She consoled herself with the fact that she wouldn't be there long, just until Henry left.

_Its freaking cold_, she thought as she rubbed her bare arms. She had only been wearing a wifebeater and jeans when she left the house. She hadn't expected it to be this cold, but then again, she had been running before, and now her body was cooling down. Anyway, she had always preferred lounging around the house in a tank top than a t-shirt, now it seemed as if she were paying the price for her clothing oddity.

_Leave, leave, freaking LEAVE! _She said over and over in her mind, as if it were a mantra.

Almost twenty-five feet below her, Henry still searched for her. Dawn had to stifle a laugh. _Why did no one ever look up? _She knew she shouldn't be enjoying his frantic search, but she felt pleased. _Not fun being beat at your own game, is it Henry? _ The prey had outsmarted the hunter. As soon as the cat is away, the mouse will play. A hundred other clichés danced through Dawn's mind, but she would not entertain them.

Instead, she spent her time thinking of her next move, the next direction she would head. She shifted on her tree branch, scouting the area. She supposed she should head for the harbor, the dock where Henry kept the boat.

Another cliché emerged through the planning of her mind, and this time, Dawn couldn't help but smile.

Altitude is determined by attitude.

_If that's true Daddy Dearest_, Dawn thought. _Than I'm sky-high. _

A flock of birds nestled in the branches of the tree just beside her. The juxtaposition of the birds, the trees, and the graying skies made her long for childhood. When she was a child, she loved to climb trees and gaze over the landscape.

_I'll go back_, Dawn assured herself. _Once I get off Harper's, I'll go back to everything. I'll go home. _

Tears welled in her eyes, but she'd be damned if she let them fall.

_I'll go home. _

XxX

Henry uttered a curse. He couldn't believe he'd lost her so easily. _Where was she? _Henry ran a hand through his hair. _Where could she have gone? _

Suddenly, birds squawked overhead and fluttered their wings. Causing Henry to do the one thing his daughter didn't want him to.

He looked up.

The birds' movement distracted him for a moment, until he caught sight of something (or rather, someone) in the tree branches above.

Dawn.

His paternal instinct kicked in and as he yelled her name. "DAWN!"

It wasn't a yell of anger so much as one of worry.

"Get down!" _What if she fell?_

He could faintly see her shake her head.

Anger now, boiled inside him. _Why was she acting like a child? _She was a teenager, she should act like it. Enough with this rebellion. Henry was the parent, Dawn his daughter. She had to listen to him. _Right? _

But of course, his fear for her well-being won out over his anger. "Are you hurt?" he called up.

She shook her head again.

"Dawn, please come down," he pleaded.

"NO!" she shouted.

Henry felt his heart break all over again.

…Fine.

That was fine.

If she didn't want to come down, well…

"I'll wait here Dawnie," Henry leaned against a tree. He crossed his arms and feigned nonchalance. "I'll wait until you come down yourself."

_And you will_, he thought. _You have to. _


	13. Drip

Drip

Dawn sat shivering in the tree. What had started out as a gentle mist was now a steady rain.

_Drip, drip._

She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, but the action did nothing against the cold. The tank she wore was thin and had already clung to her body before it became wet. Now it was like a second skin. Dawn clenched her jaw to prevent her teeth from chattering. Her dark eyes looked at the sodden, muddy ground again.

She was alone. Henry had left when the rain picked up. His goodbye echoed in her mind.

"Whenever you're ready Dawn, you know where I'll be. But remember, you can't get off this island without my help."

_We'll see about that_, the inbred thought as she steeled her resolve. _I don't need you Henry._

With a flash of lightening, and a crash of thunder, the sky opened up and the steady rain turned into a raging downpour.

Dawn clenched her jaw as she began to descend the branches before the lightening decided to strike her tree.

_I don't need you._

_I don't._

XxX

Henry sat in front of a warm fire. He had changed out of his wet clothes and into dry ones. He stared into the flames intently, his thoughts whirling as violently as the tempest outside. A crash of thunder brought him out of his thoughts and he stared out the window.

Dawn, his mind immediately went to his daughter, out there, alone.

He leaned back against the couch and looked at the broken door. He had knocked out the remaining hanging shards with a hammer, duct taped a tarp over the gaping hole, then as an extra precaution and to ensure no water would leak through, he boarded it up. Henry knew he would have to get a replacement soon. _Maybe after the storm?_

The broken glass in the back porch door reminded Henry why he had left her out there. She needed to understand that she couldn't do whatever she wanted without consequences. Dawn needed to accept the fact that she needed him. They were alone on the island. They only had each other. He needed her to remain sane, docile, normal. Dawn needed him because she was lost, alone, afraid. She needed to learn her lesson, and he prayed to God that she would be alright.

_She'll never find the boat_, he assured himself, going back to the fire. _I've hidden it too well. She'll be fine._ Henry tried to reassure himself. _After all, she is my daughter._

XxX

Dawn stumbled through the mud and brush. She shivered involuntarily now, violently too. She dragged

herself through the woods for an hour until she came to the dock.

What she saw, or didn't see rather, stopped her in her tracks.

Her hair was now plastered to her head, neck, and back. Her jeans were soaked through completely, as was her tank. The cheap, thin cloth clung to her like a second skin. The bottoms of her Chucks were caked with mud, making each step slick.

Dawn didn't notice any of it. All she saw was the lack of a boat. The boat she was sure Henry used to get her on the island. The boat that would have ticketed her freedom. The boat that would have gotten her home.

That boat was not there.

Thunder brought her out of her daze and made her move her feet. She turned to the left and decided to follow along the shoreline. Dawn didn't know what her plan was exactly, but all she knew for sure was that she wanted to be as far away from Henry and his damn house as possible.

Away from her jailer.

Away from her prison.

Away from her impulses.

Right now, she didn't have to focus on any of that. Right now, she was just a girl, searching for shelter in the pouring rain. A bitter laugh passed her lips.

_Fugitive_, she thought. _I'm a fugitive._

Another thought struck her just as violently as Henry himself had.

_Just like my father._

XxX

Henry resorted to pacing the floor. The power was out so his path was only lit by the fire. Well, what did you expect when you relied on solar power and two back-up generators? Things like that were bound to happen, but that wasn't why he was pacing.

It had been an hour. A whole hour.

His daughter had been wandering around in the pouring rain for a _freakin' hour_!

_What if she's hurt? _He thought, grasping his head between his hands. _What if she gets sick? _He clenched his jaw until he frowned. _What if she gets lost?_ Henry gnashed his teeth. _What if she…_

Henry fisted his hands and stared into the flames again.

XxX

Dawn continued down the rocky shoreline until she found the old boathouse. When her dark eyes rested on the old shanti, life sprung into them, as if someone had flicked a switch. She put on the speed as she ran into the shelter.

_Maybe the radio's…!_ but the hopeful thought was cut short when she saw that the radio was no longer on the table, as her mother had told her and had been described in the books Abby had written. Dawn stood in the middle of the 'house'. Rain pummeled against the wood. There was a wooden bench shoved against the wall to her right, and a jean jacket was thrown onto a chair. Dawn walked over and took it in her hands. She swatted at the jacket, knocking the dust that had accumulated over the years off it. As she did so, he eyes fell on two letters written on the tag with a black marker.

_C.S…_she thought. _Who's…_

The answer charged into her mind with a ferocity all its own. She dropped the jacket as if it were a live grenade. The inbred backed away from the jacket and stared at it.

The water from the now shaking girl fell onto the floor.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

C.S.

Christopher Sulliven.

Sully.

_Drip, drip._

XxX

Henry kicked the dresser in his room. He had migrated from the living room to his own 'den' because he was getting tired of waiting. He kicked the dresser again, harder this time, and yelled. Two picture frames fell onto the floor. He ignored them for now and ran his hands through his hair. _Why? Why did she have to run? Didn't she get it? Didn't she understand that he loved her? That part of the reason he took her away was so she'd be safe? She wouldn't have to deal with anyone else ever again, never get hurt by anyone else ever again. She would be free. She could be herself with him. He was her Dad, not Jimmy, him!_

"Damn it," he swore, bending down and picking up the pictures.

The first one he picked up was from the cast off party as they headed to Harper's for the wedding. In it, he, Sully, Malcolm, Danny, and Booth were holding beers and smiling at the camera. He smiled as he put it back in place. He didn't really want to kill his friends, but their sacrifice was for a good cause. Of course, he hadn't personally killed Danny or Booth, but Malcolm and Sully…well, he wasn't heartless.

Malcolm had been a little harder than he would have thought. Hearing his screams of "Henry! Please! Stop!" and his shrieks of agony as he hacked him to pieces were hard to deal with. Sully on the other hand, he'd gone out quietly. Sully didn't scream or beg, just took it with angry silence. Booth had offed himself, accidently shooting himself in the leg and bleeding out within seconds. How like Booth, to be so considerate to kill himself so Henry wouldn't have to listen to his whimpering. His Dad had killed Danny, and apparently gave him a run for his money. The man had just refused to go out, much like Shane. In the end however, a desk item used for spearing papers had been Danny's end.

Henry bent down to retrieve the other frame. This one held a picture of him and Abby. Tucked into the corner was the old picture of Dawn and Abby he had taken from her room all those years ago. Henry smiled and ran his fingertips over the glass. He missed Abby, but he knew that she could not be brought to the island until he had settled things with their daughter.

Henry sighed as he placed that picture back as well. He ran his thumb over the image of his daughter, so young, so happy. _Why couldn't she be that way now? Why did he have to miss those vital years of her life?_

XxX

Dawn, after shivering for another long minute, reasoned that Sully would want her to have the jacket. He would want to help her. He wouldn't want her to freeze to death while trying to escape Henry. She walked toward the jacket again. She bent down, knocked the dirt off, then slipped it on. She buttoned it up all the way and rubbed her hands up and down her jean-clad arms. The jacket was big, the sleeves too long, but she immediately felt warmer.

"Thanks Sully," she whispered. "I'm sorry for what he…what my…for what Henry did." She swallowed. "H-He's my father and I j-just want to leave. I'm scared." She admitted to the ghost of a man long dead that only existed in her mind. "I don't want to be like him."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, warm on the ice that her skin had become. She decided, as she wiped it away, to try a different approach. "Mom, Dad…don't give up OK?" she pleaded with the ceiling. "Please…don't. Come find me. Come save me. Please?" She knew she would need help, and she'd accept it from just about anybody and anything.

Except Henry of course.

Dawn looked at the bench and decided to rest. She needed her strength. She needed sleep.

She lay down on the wooden bench and closed her eyes, falling asleep (or passing out) almost immediately.

XxX

Henry yanked his jacket on. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the waiting. He took his keys and shoved them in his jeans' pocket. The killer all but slammed the front door as he hooked around the house and ran into the woods again. He decided to check the tree first, then along the shoreline from there. He hoped he'd find her soon.

If Henry didn't find Dawn, he didn't know what he'd do.

XxX

Dawn yawned as her eyes opened. She felt warm, relaxed, well-rested.

Then she remembered where she was.

She sat up immediately, her side smarting from the rough surface she'd slept on. She rubbed her hands over her face and found a splinter in her palm. Dawn brought her hand to her face and bit the sliver of wood out of her skin. Once out, she spat it onto the ground. A small trail of blood oozed out of the cut and fell onto the floor. She stuck the cut skin into her mouth to stop the bleeding. She knew it wouldn't really relieve any pain; it was more a mind-over-matter thing, much like when a parent kissing your boo-boo.

Dawn sighed and stood. She stretched, knowing, despite the still pouring rain, that she had to push on. If she was still in here and Henry found her…

Well, she'd be caught. Toast. Finished.

Dawn wrung out her hair, figuring that she should get as much moisture out now before she added to any by going outside.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip._

The inbred decided to search the shack one last time. She hoped to find something to cover her head.

XxX

_Damn, damn, damn!_ Dawn wasn't in the tree. But of course she was smart enough to know that lightning strikes tall things, like trees.

Henry paused and scanned the dock. _Where are you?_

He turned over every stone looking for her. He checked everywhere.

Where…where…where?

Where could she have gone? The island wasn't that big! She HAD nowhere to go!

Henry swore then continued on, following the shoreline. He had to find her. He would find her.

XxX

Dawn found an old baseball cap and tugged it on. She faced the door and took a deep breath. A cough suddenly pierced through her chest and wracked her body, causing her to double over in agony.

"Wet weather, high humidity…not good for asthma," she whispered after she was done.

XxX

Henry could see it, the boathouse. He could see how it would be the perfect place to hide. He poured on the speed and ran toward it. He threw open the door and was shocked at what he found.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Henry strode into the space and his eyes traveled around the room in a frenzied fashion. Something on the floor caught his eye.

It was blood, fresh blood.

There wasn't much, but it was blood, of that the serial killer was sure.

_Maybe she cut herself_, he thought. _It's not enough blood to suspect she tried anything stupid._

The thought that his daughter would try to kill herself made him turn suddenly and run, made him want to continue his search.

XxX

Dawn stood in the freezing rain, deciding something. There was nowhere to go, not yet anyway. She didn't know anything. Not the location of the boat. Not the layout of the island. Not the location of any buildings. Not _one _damn thing!

She was fighting herself. She didn't want to, but a part of her argued that she should go back.

Back to the house.

Back to her prison.

Back to Henry.

The other part of her, the stubborn, angry part, spat that she would rather die in freedom than live in captivity.

She knew which one would win out, even though she hated it.

The soaked teen looked at her surroundings and tried to pinpoint where she was. She couldn't. She had no idea. Dawn decided to push on. She figured that if she kept walking straight, she would eventually get to a landmark she recognized.

She had made her decision.

XxX

Henry trudged back to the house with a dejected air about him. He hadn't found Dawn, and aside from the blood, hadn't found any trace of her either. The murderer arrived at the back of the house, where the porch was, and finally raised his head from the muddy ground.

His heart leaped at the sight of his daughter sitting on the back steps.

His pace quickened as he got closer and closer. He wanted to hug her. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to ask if she was alright. He wanted to get her inside. He wanted to make her stay out in the rain as punishment. He wanted to hold her.

Henry was so confused that by the time he was in front of his daughter's hunched form he didn't know what to say. She looked up at him with tragic dark eyes. Henry could only stare back. Dawn's eyes darted to the side, as if she was looking for an escape. The father was hurt that even now, even when she came back, back to him, back _home_, she still thought of leaving him. Dawn's hands visibly shook, but from fear or cold, he couldn't tell. The serial killer stood in front of his daughter a few seconds longer, staring down at her small, shaking form hunched on the stairs.

Then he took a breath, and walked passed her, up the stairs. Henry went to the back door and pulled out his keys. He tried not to look back as he opened the door.

Dan hadn't moved from her spot, hadn't even turned to look back at him. She just sat on the stairs.

XxX

Dawn couldn't move. She wanted to, but her muscles wouldn't work. She wanted to say something, but her throat constricted. What would she say to him anyway? _Sorry I ran away Henry. Could you possibly let me in so I don't catch pneumonia?_

Right. That would go over well.

She was jarred out of her thoughts when Henry put his hand on her shoulder.

"Dawnie," he said.

Without him saying so, she understood that he wanted her to stand. The teen did, and climbed the few remaining stairs. Henry's hand was between her shoulder blades, as if he was discouraging her from running away, or at least to make sure she didn't. He stopped suddenly and looked down at her.

"Don't_ ever_ do that again. I should make you stand out here longer."

Dawn just looked up at him, waiting for his decision, waiting for him to be done.

The anger left his eyes and concern flooded them, literally. Tears rose in his orbs, making them look glassy, like a doll's. "You had me worried."

"I'm sorry," the inbred finally said.

"Are you?"

Dawn looked at the wooden boarding under her feet.

XxX

"Are you?" he hadn't meant for that question to slip.

He watched Dawn look at her feet. _Great. _

"Dawn, I didn't mean…I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I'm just…" He let the sentence trail off. 'Just' what? Stressed? Angry? Worried? Hurt? All of the above?

He sighed. "Let's just get you inside."

His daughter nodded. The pair walked into the house.

When Henry shut the door behind him, he walked forward to hang his jacket up. His daughter merely stood by the door, shaking.

He continued to move around, taking off his boots and putting them by the fire, stoking the fire, taking off his shirt. Finally, he looked at his stationary child.

"There's probably enough hot water left for you to shower. Then change and come back down here alright?"

Dawn nodded and proceeded to walk toward the stairs.

…

About twenty minutes later, Henry was sitting in front of the fire when his daughter appeared in the doorway. He turned to look at her.

She wore a long sleeve shirt that he believed was called a Henley. He thought it might have belonged to Trish, his deceased bride-to-be. The jeans probably belonged to the dead heiress as well. A small towel rested on top of Dawn's head, soaking up what little water it could. His daughter stood awkwardly in the doorway, as if she was afraid to come into the room.

"Hey," he greeted quietly.

"Hi."

"Come sit by the fire and get warm," he tried to make the order sound gentle, so he wouldn't scare her off.

Dawn did as he said, but she sat at the complete opposite of the couch. She attempted to towel-dry her hair, but soon became frustrated.

"Come here," Henry said in an amused tone. "I'll get it."

So Dawn walked over to him and sat on the floor at his feet. She faced him, her wide, frightened eyes looking up at his face. Henry smiled gently and took the towel in his hands. He began to dry her hair, while Dawn remained stock still.

"S-Sorry I…" Dawn paused to clear her throat. "How's your stomach?"

Henry laughed. "I've had worse shoved through me Dawn."

She flinched at the reminder. Henry ignored it.

"I want to get to know you Dawn," he said. "Can I ask you some questions?"

His daughter nodded.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Favorite movie?"

She glanced to the side, as if she was embarrassed. "It varies from genre to genre."

"Can you name some?" he was already thinking of a movie day, a day they could bond.

"Um…_The Outsiders_, _RENT_, _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_, _Push_, _Planet of the Apes_…really any kind of movie."

"No chick flicks?" Henry clarified.

Dawn made a face that caused him to laugh again.

"Favorite book?" he continued, still drying.

"I read too many."

"That Outsiders book seems to be a favorite."

The dark haired teen shrugged. "S.E. Hinton is a good writer."

He stopped drying and put the towel aside. "Do you have a brush?"

To his surprise, Dawn did. She handed it to him and turned her back on him, facing the fire. She was allowing him to brush her hair. Henry grinned and began to run the brush through her dark locks.

"Favorite food?" He wanted to continue his questions. He wanted her to talk more.

"I like any type of fish, that's what my D—" she stopped suddenly.

Henry knew what she was going to say. 'That's what my Dad (meaning Jimmy) cooked a lot'. That damn fisherman ruined even this. Henry didn't stop brushing though. He continued on. His daughter shook in front of him, as if she were trying not to cry.

XxX

Dawn tried to focus on the soothing feeling of the brush as it ran through her hair. She tried not to think about her Dad, lying in a puddle of blood, still as stone. The inbred drew her knees to her body and tried to remain calm. She hadn't meant to mention Jimmy, but it had just slipped out. She didn't want to turn around. _Was Henry angry? _ Dawn tried to keep her breathing in check, but it was getting harder and harder as she thought about her family.

_Mom…Dad…_

A loud, shoulder-shaking sob escaped her throat.

She heard Henry slink off the couch and sit behind her. Dawn covered her face as Henry wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

_I'm sorry_, the teen thought as she cried. _Dad, Mom…I'm sorry_.

XxX

Henry slid off the couch so he could sit on the floor behind his daughter. His legs were open, his knees bent, giving Dawn the perfect shelter. He pulled her back into his chest and held her. Dawn didn't flinch. She didn't try to get away. His daughter simply continued sobbing. Henry hugged her tighter.

"Shh," he soothed. "It's OK Dawn."

Dawn shook her head and just kept crying.

"It's alright," he continued. "I'm here."

The murderer felt his child grasp the hand he put on her shoulder. She squeezed it as she cried.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out. "I'm sorry."

For a few seconds, he forgot it was Dawn he was holding. His logic lapsed temporarily and he thought he was holding her mother. _Abby…_

Henry took her hand in his and squeezed it. "It's OK," he whispered. "I forgive you."

He could feel her still damp hair dripping onto his shirt, and hear the water droplets fall onto the wood floor. Henry supposed her tears were hitting the floor as well.

_Drip…drip…drip._

"I forgive you."


End file.
